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MARCUS FLAMINIUS; 

OR, 

A VIEW OF THE 
MILITARY, POLITICAL, AND SOCIAL LIFE 

OF 

THE ROMANS: 

IN 

A SERIES OF LETTERS 
FROM A PATRICIAN TO HIS FRIEND ; 

IN THE YEAR DCC.LXIl. 
FROM THE FOUNDATION OF ROME, 
TO THE YEAR DCC.LXIX. 

By E. CORNELIA KNIGHT. 



Stat saa cuiqne dies; breve et irreparabile tempus 

Omnibus est vitee; sed fiuoam extendere factis 

Hoc virttttis opus. Virgilt JEa, Lib. x. 



IN TWO VOLUMES. 
VOL. L 

SECOND EDITION. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED BY J. M'CREERY, 

FOR T. CAOELL, AND W. DAVIES, STRAND. 

1808. 



TO 
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 

THE EARL OF ORFORD, 

* 

WHOSE GENIUS AND TASTE 

% 

MUST EVER DISTINGUISH THE NAME Or 

WALPOLE 

IN THE ANNALS OF LITERATURE, 

» 

THIS WORK 

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
BT HIS LORDSHIFS 

MOST OBEDIENT 

HUMBLE SERVANT, 

E. CORNELIA KNIGHT. 



PREFACE. 



Few persons pemse the RomMi history^, 
without forming a wish that it were possible 
to become more intimately a€<)uainted with the^ 
great characters described in it; and this- 
thought seems particulai^ly to strike those who. 
wander amidst the ruins of ancient Rome. 

To bring history to life, is the chief inteof; 
don of this publicatiou. The reigns of Avi^^. 
tiis and Tiberius are generally allowed to in^ 
dude the most iiM^eresting period for the pe<^ 
litician^ the moralist^ the man of learnings 
and the artist. The following letters may: 
give sonae idea of the state of Romc^ and' its 
inhabitants^ during the last years of the fort^ 
nier-emperor, and tibe first yeara of his suc*f 
cessor : the enapure was then • at the summit 
of power ; though, undoubtedly^ superior vir*^ 

A 4 



tm PREFACE. 

tue was to be found in the pristine ages 
of the republic^ and greater magnificence un^ 
der the succeeding emperors. 

I am sensible ' that the present work can 
only be considered as a faint representation 
of a great and important image; but if a 
few of the principal features are delineated, 
it may assist the enquiries of the traveller, and, 
in some measure, gratify the curiosity of those 
who aire denied the satisfaction of visiting the 
places dignified by history. 
^ Minute details have been avoided, and the 
local descriptions, not being meant to serve 
as an itinerary, are only introduced to eluci- 
date the sentiments and events. A complete 
account of all that was interesting to be seen 
or known, in the Augustan age, would be 
indeed voluminous. The city of Rome has 
alone furnished materials for numberless wri- 
ters, both ancient and modem; yet fre^ dis- 
coveries are daily made, and the mine is far 
from being exhausted. While the Caesars were 
masters oi^ the world, every individual of their 
dominions contributed to the embellishment of 
the capital ; every reni^arkable work of art was 



PREFACE. ix 

transported thither ; every man of genius made 
Rome the ca^iter of his ambition; the fate 
of empires was there decided^ and to Rome 
ive originally owe the knowledge and civiliza- 
tion, which the difiFerent states of Europe now 
possess in a comparative degree. 

The subject is universally interesting; and^ 
should the candid and indulgent Reader find 
himself disappointed in his expectations, it is 
at least hoped he will remember, that he feels 
greater pleaslire in looking on the most im- 
perfect sketch of the transfiguration of Ra- 
phael than on the happiest imitation of a 
piece of still life. 

In r^rd to the character of Arminius, we 
must ren^ember it is a Roman who writes,, 
^nd that it is natural his sentiments should 
be conformable to the testimony of Latin 
historians. The Germans, a brave and pa- 
triotic people, revere the memory of Arminius 
as the champion of their liberty; they repre- 
sent the massacre of Teutoburgium as an en- 
gagement, in which courage had as great a 
^lare as artifice. Though we know not oa 
what this assertion is founded, it is at least 



X PREFACE. 

pardonable in a natidn jealous of its honour^ 
^nd^ at present^ incapable of a similar act 
of treachery. Arminiui^ is allowed by the 
Romans to have beeii a tnan of great pergonal 
bravery, and spirit of enterprise. Qiiinttlius 
Varus had the reputation of indolence and 
avarice ; but it appears that the chief cause 
of discotitent was his endeavour to intrioduce 
the laws and regular tribunak of the Romans, 
amongst a people who were accustomed to 
decide private, as well as public quarrels, by 
the sword. However just miy be the stric- 
tures on the conduct of Varus, it would not 
have been proper that a young o&cer, who 
served with him, should cast any .reflections 
on the memory of his unfortunate general. 

To the historisins of those times, and to 
the annalsf of Tacitus in particular, the reader 
is referred for most of the characters described 
in the following pages: he will there find 
thatTiberiusy after the conspiracy Of Clemens, 
Wais constantly disturbed with alarnis, many 
of which were often not without foundation : 
he will see that slaves and freedmen were the 
agents in affairs of a mysterious nature, and 



PREFACE. XI 

that nothiDg was more frequent than the perse- 
cution of senators^ anid their families, from the 
slightest suspicions : he will read the untimely ' 
fate of the excellent Germanicus ; the sacrifice 
of Arminius to civil discord; the murder of 
Drusus ; and the conspiracy of Sejanus against 
the emperor. 

A few notes are added to authenticate pas- 
sages, the truth of which is attested by ancient 
authors; and to remind the reader of the 
modem names of places which occur through- 
out the work. These not^s will, indeed, be 
uimecessary to the scholar and traveller, to 
iwhose indulgence, the letters of Marcus are 
peculiarly recommended ; the last of whom, 
with the feelings of Caesar amidst the ruins 
of Troy, 



his wondering eyes has cast 



On ancient monoments of ages^ast. 

Rowe's Lucan. Pharsalia, Book ix. 



MARCUS FLAMIKIUS; 

OR THE 

ttpV n,T7 nPTTT? T^Q lVf ANS. 



ERRATA TO VOL. I. 

page 55 Vote, for Loaxro read Lctooro 
' Go Kotc, for Procide read Procida 
S47 Note, for Montagne read M&ntagna 
S50 Note, for Sainte Oreste read Sara Orestt 
S54 Note, for Posthumous read Posthtanus 
S59 Note, for Scarra read Sdarra 
and for Cofunna read Colonna 

VOL. 11. 

pace 17 I'ine tlie 6th, for aprotxd read approved 
176 Note, for «^ read this 
£27 Note, for iSUn/^ read «Ac 5^yi 



into Germany ; uncertain as I am, whether you 
will ever receive the letter of your friend, I still 

continue to write. ^Your love of glory made 

you envy the happy followers of Quintilius 
Varus,* and you looked with contempt on your 

* Qaintilias Varus, defeated by Arminias, in the year 
of Rome, 762, and the 10th of our aDra,^as is generally 
believed. Yelleius Paterculas, Strabo, Dion'Cassins, &c. 

Vol. I. b 



MARCUS FLAMIKIUS; 

OR THE 

LIF'E OF THE ROMANS. 



MARCUS TO SEPTIMIUS. 



LETTER I. 

A. LAS! Septimius, while- you imagine a glo« 
rious death has put an end to my misfortunes, 
I am perhaps condemned to wear out my exist- 
ence in a barbarous and hostile land. ^When 

we parted, I promised to inform you of every 
event that should happen during our expedition 
into Germany ; uncertain as I am, whether you 
will ever receive the letter of your friend, I still 

continue to write. ^Your love of glory made 

you envy the happy followers of Quintilius 
Varus,* and you looked with contempt on your 

* Qaintiliiis Yams, defeated by Arminius, in the year 
of Rome, 762, and the 10th of our aDra,^as is generally 
believed. Yelleius Paterculas, Strabo, Dion'Cassiiis, &c. 
Vol. I. b 



station in lUyria^ when compared with the pros- 
pects that were opened to our amhition. ;0 

Septimius! we are betrayed, massacred, dis- 
graced—Start not, my friend 1 I would not hare 
lived to write the last of these words, had not a 
power, stronger than my own resolutions, pre- 
vailed, and forced me to retain a life, which it 
requires more courage to support, than to termi- 
nate even by the most painful of deaths. This 
consideration alone tnakes me submit to my pre- 
sent state, and, without boasting, I may add, 
that the victory over my feelings gives me an 
internal satisfaction which, in some measure, 
makes amends for the humiliating condition to 
which I am reduced. 

You will have heard of the battle, or rather of 
the surprise at Teutoburgium,* in which Varus 
and his three legions were destroyed by the arti- 
fice and valour of Arminius. I was near our ge- 
neral, and saw him turn his sword against his 
own bosom; I rushed into the thickest of the 
enemies, and expected not to have survived our 
disgrace; I fell in the midst of slaughter, and 
was long insensible of my situation ; at length I 

* Tentobarginm. It is difficult to ascertain the spot, 
some imagine it to have been near Pyrmont. Cluverios 
places it between Dietmille and Horn. 



recovered, and, by the light of several fires, which 
burned on altars raised in a wood near the field 
of liattle, I perceived a sight more horrible than 
imagination can form. At each of the altars 
stood a priest, attended by <;hildren and guarded 
by soldiers, whose brows were crowned with the 
sacred produce of the oak; they were sacrificing 
to the God of revenge the wretched tribunes and 
centurions of our army, who had unfortunately, 
been taken prisoners during the battle : the blood 
of some of these victims already flowed on the 
altars, others were bound with cords, and the knife 
was just pointed to their throats. — — I summoned 
all the strength that was left me, and with some 
difficulty crawled to the nearest fire : I told the 
barbarians to strike, and put an end to my exist > 
ence; the priest was about to comply with my 
request, and the children began to scream out 
the usual dirge that accompanies these frantic 
rites; but the soldiers who stood round, interpos- 
ed, and declaring that my voluntary submis- 
sion entitled me to protection, hurried me away 
with them, and placed me on one of the car- 
riages that stood beyond the confines of the 
wood, I was too weak to resist, and soon relaps- 
ed into a state of insensibifity, till the motion of 
the carriage restoring me to myself, I found my 



4 

humane preservers had bound up my wounds. 
They were a party of the Cheruscaiis,* who 
were returning to their native vallies after the 
engagement. I suffered incredible torture dur- 
ing this rough and tedious journey^ but these 
very sufferings convincing me that it would be 
now an act of cowardice to attempt putting an 
end to a life of pain, I collected all the philoso- 
phy of which I was master, and resolved to bear 
whatever fortune might inflict. 

With these sentiments I arrived at the misera- 
ble dwellings of my conductors: they have saved 
my life, cured my wounds, and with singular 
generosity exempted me from the common offi- 
ces of slavery, the most wretched condition that 
can be imagined in this barbarous country: all 
that they expect from me is to assist them in the 
chace, or to procure game for them when they 
are not themselves disposed to seek it. War and 
hunting are the only occupations which they 
consider worthy of a free being : of letters they 

* Cherascans, supposed to have been inhabitauts of 
that part of Germany, which is now comprehended in 
the duchies of Brunswick and Lunenburg, and the 
dioceses of Halberstadt, Hildesheim, and Magdeburg. 
For their character, see Tacitus de moribus Germa- 
noram. 



haye no idea : the luxuries and conveniencies of 
life are alike unknown to them ; their actions 
are kind, but their manners are rude. Their 
indulgence towards me, which proceeds from 
their opinion of my behaviour on the night of 
the engagement, has never been accon^panied 
with the least mark of affection ; they have ncfi 
attempted to insult my misfortunes, nor have 
they sought to console my afflictions. Whether 
time may bring us to a nearer connexion is to 
me uncertain, but I have discovered that it is 
impossible to escape ; the frontiers are continu- 
ally guarded, not only to prevent the flight of 
their slaves or of their prisoners, but to repel the 
incursions of their neighbours. As they have 
not employment at home, when there is no ge- 
neral war that calls forth their exertions, they 
reciprocally lay waste the lands nearest to them, 
and plunder all that is within their reach ; and 
it is remarkable how much they are addicted to 
idleness, and averse to tranquillity. 



6 



.1 



LETTER II. 

1 HE sovereigns in Germany owe their dig- 
nity to birth, the generals are chosen from 
superiority of valour, but it is not rare to sec 
the same person invested with both characters. 
Arminius,* the present leader of the Cheruscans, 
possesses great intrepidity and spirit of tenter- 
prise : at an early period of his life he acquired 
the esteem of his countrymen, atid that of our 
legions as commander of a body of auxiliaries : 
the knowledge and experience which he gained 
in the Roman army, proved fatal to the unfor- 
tunate Varus. Our defeat will probably con- 
secrate the name of Arminius in the annab of 
posterity, and he is already considered as the 

." ■ • . • . ■ ... . i . . , 

* Arminius, called by the <j|^inaiis, HermanQ ; forhis 
character, see Tacitus, Yelleias Paterculas, &c. Tradi- 
tion has consecrated his fame in Germany, and a pillar 
erected to his memory, called Hermansaule, was wor- 
shipped till the introduction of Christianity* The man- 
ners of the Germans in this and the former letter are 
taken from Tacitus de mor. Germ. Caesar's Comment* 
Book 6. 



hero of Gernjiany: the neighhouring chiefs are 
jealous of his power, and envious of his glory, 
but his principal enemy is Segestes, whose 
daughter he married contrary .to her father^s in- 
clinations ; and in this country the attachment 
of the latter for the Romans is supposed to have 
' arisen from a motive of revenge against his son- 
in-law. It was a prepossession of the same 
nature that influenced our unhappy general to 
disbelieve the assertions of Segestes, when he 
cautioned him against the perfidious intentions of 
Arminius. Varus supposed the accusation to be 
dictated by malice, and never suspected the 
Cheruscan leader, till we fell into the ambush 
he had prepared for us. 

Arminius, agreeable to the custom of all these 
nations, has a select number of young men of 
the noblest families who constantly attend him^ 
and are called his companions : they accompany 
him in battle, and never quit his side ; and it is 
considered as the greatest infamy, when one of 
these companions deserts his prince, or even 
survives him after an engagement : they wear a 
distinguishing mark on their armour, and enjoy 
the most honourable privileges. Cariovaldas, 
leader of the party that conducted me hither, has 
a son aiQongst this chosen band of Arminius ; 



8 

his name is Sigismar, and it is said that he gain- 
ed the highest glory in the late action ; his father 
is one of the principal warriors of the Cherus- 
cans^ and, if it is an alleviation of slavery to 
have fallen into nohle hands, I have reason to he 
contented with my situation ; but I do not yet 
see any hopes of acquiring that temper of mind 
which alone can reconcile me to my fate, and 
make me, like .^op the philosopher,^ sport with 
captivity. I feel a vacuity that is worse than all 
my other misfortunes : I cannot partake of the in- 
dolent enjoyments of this people ; their greatest 
pleasure is the absence of pain, except when 
they give themselves up to the disgusting joys of 
ebriety, or the more destructive delights of gam- 
ing : for simple and untaught as they seem, they 
are yet addicted to this ruinous vice to such a 
degree, that they often lose at one sitting all 
their possessions, and at length in the desperate 
essay for recovering what they have lost, set their 
liberty at stake, and become by the last unlucky 
throw the slave of their antagonist. Such arc 
their vices, but their virtues must be allowed to 
be greater : conjugal fidelity, paternal and filial 
affection, hospitality and valour are the charac- 
teristics of these barbarians ; and good morals 
have here more influence than good laws in our 



9 

more civilized countries. My heart would be 
soon interested in their favour, if my mind found 
any subject for its activity ; but the change is too 
great : though wild scenes and savage manners 
may afford matter of speculation for a short time, 
they cannot make amends for the loss of that va- 
riety of objects which is produced by the united 
efforts of art and nature. My boasted philosophy 
evaporates when I reflect, that the misfortune of 
a day has dashed to the ground every ambitious 
hope, barred every path to distinction, broken 
every tie of friendship and affection, and reduc- 
ed me to a state of hopeless misery, or torpid 
indifference. You may remember, Septimius, 
the last evening we spent together in Rome, with 
what ardor did I prepare myself for this expedi- 
tion ! with what rapture did I relinquish the 
pleasures which abound in that capital of the 
universe, while I nourished the pleasing hope of 
rendering myself worthy of my ancestors and 
of my country. I wished to emulate the exam- 
ple of my father, though an early death de- 
prived me of his precepts, and to add new lustre 
to the family of a mother whose memory I re- 
vered, though I lost her in my infancy ; perhaps 
to shew myself not undeserving of the kindness of 
Augustus, of the praises of the philosophers and 



10 

poets who frequent his court — and to gather lau- 
rels which I might one day hope to lay at the 

feet of Aurelia. Such are the dreams of youth 

— ^they are vanished, and must I not com- 
plain ? 

Can I forget that moment in which the great, 
the good Valerius,* straining me to bis bosom 
with all the Warmth of paternal tenderness, ex- 
horted me to prove myself a descendant of those 
Romans who had saved their country from do- 
mestic slavery and foreign invasion ; yet not to 
expose too rashly a life, which was dear to him 
as the only remaining image of a beloved sister. 
Who is now to console him amidst the troubles, 
which his rigid virtue and unshaken regard for 
•the welfare of Rome have accumulated on his' 
head? Nobly conscious of the rectitude of his 
intentions, he has disdained to flatter the haugh- 
ty livia, or her insidious son. Should Tiberius 
ever enjoy the sovereign command, vrhere are 
the virtuous citizens, the truly Romans, who 
will support Valerius against his enmity? O 
Septimius! my heart bleeds when I reflect on 
what I have left ; a gloomy melancholy preys on 
my existence ; ! am a solitary being in the midst 

» For the Valerian family, see Livy, Plutarch, Life 
of PopUcola, &c. 



11 

of a vast desert, whence I have neither hope of 
escape, nor prospect of consolation ! 

Had I any means of instruction, any power of 
conversing with men whose minds have heen cul- 
tivated, I could hear my situation ; hut my time 
passes without pleasure and without improve- 
ment ; the hours follow each o^er with a lan- 
guid and inglorious pace : I have neither friend 
nor enemy, neither instructor nor fellow-stu- 
dent. 



i 



12 



LETTER III* 

1 HE gloomy winter approaches^ and the in- 
clemencies of the season are added to the other 
distresses of this unhappy people : they begin to 
retire from their summer huts into the melan- 
choly caves which are to enclose them during 
the ensuing six months. Hunting will soon be 
carried on with greater eagerness, and as this is 
now the only employment left me, I see with 
pleasure the neighbouring mountains covered 
with snow, and listen not unwillingly to the 
boisterous winds that roar through these desart 
plains, and agitate the lofty woods. I have 
already accompanied Cariovaldas on an expe- 
dition against the savages of the forest, and have 
acquired some esteem amongst the Cheruscans 
by my skill and intrepidity. Were I at Rome, 
Septimius, I would not appear the harbinger of 
my own praises ; but here I can set little value 

* Tacitus de mor. Germ. Klopstock, Tragedy of 
Hermannslacht^ and various authors* 



13 

on the skill which I possess in common with 
a herd of harbariansj or on the intrepidity 
which only consists in eiqposing a life that is 
become a burden. Amidst the charms and 
luxuries of Rome we can scarcely conceive why 
a man should hazard his existence from any 
other motives, than those of fame or duty. We 
have been told, but cannot believe, that there 
are beings who, without any peculiar misfortune 
to make them weary of life, arc indifferent to the 
preservation of it, merely because they are in- 
volved in general wretchedness ; yet such, I am 
now convinced, is the case of many nations in 
the world : their misery is not sufficiently great 
to induce them to seek death, but their comforts 
are too few to make them very anxious to avoid 
it. The past affords them no pleasing prospect 
for the future, and with a very little struggle they 
quit the mansion of pain, labour and indigence, 
with the hope of fmding, in some unknown region, 
that degree of pleasure, repose, and plenty, of 
which their unenlightened minds can form an 
idea. All nations have fabricated an Elysium for 
themselves, or have adopted one on the faith 
of others, when they have found it analogous 
to their desires or principles. The Greeks, and 
we, in imitation of them, have supposed for the 



14 

reward of the good^ fairer fields^ more odorifer- 
ous shrubs, cooler shades, and more stately 
palaces, than the present. We imagine that the 
variety of pleasures will be infinite ; that music 
will become perfect harmony ; that poetry will 
embrace, in the sublimest strains, the past, the 
present> and the future ; that science will appear 
unveiled, and that our curiosity, and love of soci- 
ety, will be gratified with the sight and knowledge 
of all the great and good who have preceded or 
may follow us. Such ar^ our hopes, the off- 
spring of our wishes rather than of our necessi- 
ty ; and therefore we do not usually desire to 
anticipate the time wh,en they are to be reali;^ed. 
The Germans, on the contrary, whose Elysium 
is far less extensive and less complicated than 
ours, are naore ready to quit their present state^ 
because they can scarcely bear in this world the 
wants which they expect to see supplied in the 
next : they im^ine that, in the hall of Odin 
they shall feel no inclemencies of the weather ^ 
that the boar will be every day in the adjoining 
wood ready to receive the stroke of their jave- 
lins, and will every day appear smoaking at 
the feast; that the cup will be constantly full, 
though repeated draughts endeavour to exhaust 
its sparkling contepts ; that chaplets of flowers. 




15 

wbich eternity cannot wither, will adorn their 
heads, and that never-dying hards will sing their 
actions while they recline on their spears. Such 
is the expectation of the Cheruscans and of their 
warlike neighbours : you perceive it is founded 
wholly on their wants, except where the love of 
glory is concerned, a passion which has indeed a 
considerable share iti all their actions : however, 
it must be owned that these reflections suf- 
ficiently evince the superior merit of our coun- 
trymen, whose valour has always been found at 
least equal to that of their enemies ; therefore 
the mere consideration how much more they 
sacrifice, will enable us to do justice. to their 
magnanimity. A sentiment of honour alone can 
preserve a polished and enlightened people from 
sinking into effeminacy. 

I do not mean to infer that the Germans are 
always unhappy, when we in the same circum- 
stances should be involved in hopeless misery. 
Their feelings do not . seem to be equal to ours. 
They are accustomed to gloomy images ; they 
for ever suppose spectres to be hovering oyer 
them ; every blast ' brings with it the shrieks of 
some discontented ghost ; in every cloud they 
perceive a spirit brandishing a fiery meteor for a 
lance, and omens and prognostics attend clii 



J6 

every step. Such are the subject of their con- 
versation and of their poetry; but they do not 
appear to be greatly affected with these horrors, 
or solicitous about the event. Their mirth is 
never without some mixture of melancholy ; and 
the first order given by a chief, after he has 
gained a battle, is, that a part of the trophies 
shall be placed on his grave. Death is for ever 
present to their imagination ; yet, while the 
reflection is so indifferent to themselves, I do not 
find them equally careless of the fate of their 
friends : they mourn indeed but a short time, but 
they preserve their memory with invariable con- 
stancy, often refuse to survive them, and never 
neglect their last commands. This ardor of attach- 
ment, which seems incompatible with the sullen 
indifference in which they pass their days, un- 
doubtedly proceeds fi-om the misery of their situ- 
ation : obliged to struggle through life with pain 
and difficulty, they are in constant need of the 
assistai\ce of each other ; and the fewer are the 
comforts they possess, the more they feel the 
want of them. 

The priests are singularly respected: they 
form a distinct order, and are not obliged to 
serve their country in arms: they preside over 
the education of youth, direct the counsels of 



17 

the monarch, arm the warrior for battle, and 
punish all capital offenders. Judge how great 
must be their power, which originates from a 
sentiment of pride in these nations, who suppose 
it beneath them to be directed, or punished, hy- 
men : they submit to whatever is inflicted by the 
priests, because they consider them as the instrur 
ments of their divinities. As their religion has 
in it more of fear than of love, I believe these 
ministers to be. the chief cause of the ferocity of 
the people : if ever they should be sufficiently 
enlightened to adopt a . more rational and more 
gentle belief, their valour will be no longer 
stained with the reproach of cruelty, and they 
will acquire the knowledge necessary to obviate 
the inconveniences of their situation, and to 
give them that distinction and consideration 
in the world, which their virtues undoubtedly- 
deserve. 



€ 



IS 



LETTER IV. 

OINCE my last letter, Septimius, I have suf- 
fered several months to elapse without atte^iptii^ 
to communicate my thoughts to you. Fatigued 
with the mcmotony of a captive tife, having no 
new object to attract my.regard>^ no event to^ 
relate, no project to form> I have Uved> or rat* 
ther vegetated, in a state of mind not \mlike 
what I have described in the Cheruscans. Last 
flight I was roused from this lethargy, in a man- 
ner that has awakened in me the most paioCul 
sensations. 

As soon as our frugal supper was ended» 
Cariovaldas commanded all present to withdraw, 
except myself; and, when we were alone, he 
spoke to me in the following terms. 

'' Young Roman, you have now been a year 
under my roof; and, as you voluntarily offered 
yourself for sacrifice at Teutoburgium, I could 
not, with justice, consider you as my slave : I 
would not have meanly saved your life to make a 



19 

propieriy of y(mr liberty ; by us you weire sup- 
posed to be nmoiigst the slain : the dead ^re 
free. Had you not disoovered yourself from 
your impatience, you itrould not baire fallen into 
cur hands ; we have* therefore, no right to 
exercise over you any other power than that 
of preventing you from assisting our enemies, 
and I could do no otherwise than brii^ you to 
my dwelling : the laws of hospitality enjoin us 
to entertain the stranger as long as he chuses 
to remain Vrith us; they command us not to 
ask him any question relative tb his own condi- 
ti<»i, till he has been a year under our roof. As 
for the first of these duties, I have no merit in ex- 
ercising it ; your situation does not permit me to 
allow of your departure. The second I have 
faithfully observed: I have neither ccmstrained 
your actions by watchful inspections nor disturb- 
ed your meditations by importunate inquiries ; 
but I am now permitted to ask your name, your 
rank in the republic, and your station in the 
army.'* 

You will ]^eadily believe, Septimius, that the 
speech of Cariovaldas sui^i^ised and aflfected me i 
the words which he had uttered, with ail th6 
codness imaginable, struck me to the heart, 
from a semse of xAf situatidUi I recovered my*" 

c3 



20 

self, after a moment's reflection, and told him 
my name was Marcus Quintius Flaminius ;* that 
I was descended from a family not unknown in 
the annals of Rome ; that I had scarcely at- 
tained my nineteenth year, when I accompanied 
Varus on his expedition, having before made a 
campaign in Dalmatia;t that my only station 
in the army was one of the young patricians; 
who, as select horse, attend the general, and 
fight immediatety under his inspection ; that I 
was sensible of the kindness with which the 
Cheruscans, and he, in particular, had treated 
me ; but that I earnestly requested he would 
permit me to be exchanged for whatever pri- 
soner he should desire, or receive any ransom 
he might think proper, as I had friends who 
wanted neither power nor inclination to assist 
me. 

* M. Q. Flaminius, or Flamlinnus. The QuintiaD 
family was originally of Alba ; after the battle of the 
Horatii and Cnriatii, several of the principal nobility of 
that city were enrolled amongst the Roman senators r 
Qnintias was one of the number. livy/ book i. There 
were several branches of the Quintii; as the Capitolini, 
Cincinnati, Flaminini, aud Crispini. 

t Dalmatia. Germanicus had commanded an army ' 
tiiere; and was eminently successful. Veil. Pat. &c. 



21 

Cariovaldas replied, that the Germans disdain- 
eli to give up their prisoners by ransom or ex- 
change; that Arminius had granted Hberty to a 
few Romans, on the night of the engagement, 
that they might inform Augustus of the defeat 
of his legions ; but that any attempt I should 
make to obtain the same permission, would be 
fruitless, as the laws of the state most strictly 
forbade such a precedent, and nothing but the 
most urgent reasons could permit the sovereign 
to transgress them. lie then asked me what I 
meant by writing, as he had often observed me 
so employed: he assured me, that all commu- 
nication was prohibited between the prisoners 
and their native country ; and advised me against 
nourishing false hopes, which could only disturb 
my mind, and make my present situation more 
iiksome. He smiled, when I told him it was 
impossible whoUy to exclude hope, and that I 
relieved my cares and soothed my affliction in 
the persuasion that I was communicating my 
thoughts to my friend. He had no conception 
what happiness would arise from illusion ; 
nor indeed what disquietude I could feel, when 
I neither suffered pain nor disgrace. He said I 
was too young for forming any connexions 
to be regretted, and had too small a share in the 



2<2 

affiiirs of my country, to suppose my absei^ce 
of any material consequence to myself or to the 
republic. He ascribed my uneasiness to a 
restless and ungovemed fancy; advised me to 
calm my passions, and repress my desires ; and, 
well convinced that I could as easily obey as 
listen to his precepts, he left me to meditate on 
his insei^sibility and my own misfortunes. 

To be condemned to the most wretched, the 
most humiliating, the most hopeless of all con- 
ditions, and not be allowed the hberty of com- 
plaint, is surely the height of misery and op^ 
pression ; yet I am persuaded that Cariovaldai 
has no idea of the sufferings he inflicts, and all 
resentment, on my part, would be as absurd 
as fruitless. These reflections, however, far 
from reconciling me to my situation, have a 
contrary effect ; I am agitated by every passicm, 
disturbed by every recollection, disgusted with 
every object that surrounds me; and, if some 
desperate effort does not free me from my pre- 
sent state, I have no other refuge but the 
grave. 



es 



LETTER V. 

X HAVE endeavoured to escape^ and . though 
tnthout success, I flatter myself, Septimius, a 
few hours will set me free : I was intercepted at 
ti small distance from this place; innumerable 
wounds were the consequence of a long and 
desperate conflict ; I have reason to hope they 
Win prove mortal. — Cariovaldas has plighted his 
faith to me that, afl:er itiy death, these papers 
^aU be tonveyed to your hands; I have not 
strength to write much, nor is it necessary. — 
Tell Valerius 1 have neither dishonoured my 
country, nor my family; assure my beloved 
Aurelia of my inviolable constancy; and may 
an that fame and fortune once seemed to pro- 
lAise to the unhappy Marcus, be realized and 
accumulated on the head of Septimius ! Fare- 
wel. 



24 



LETTER VI. 

It is too true, Septimius, that death flies from 
•the cavern of despair, and only delights to over- 
throw the pompous fabricks of hope : your friend 
still lives; his youth and the strength of his con- 
stitution have once more snatched him from the 
arms of freedom : surely Heaven yet reserves me 
for future happiness, or I should not meet with 
euch unusual trials ; trials that have conquered 
even the insensibility of the cool Cheruscans. Ca- 
riovaldas has taken infinite care of me during my 
confinement, and rejoices at my recovery with 
more warmth than I have ever before perceived in 
his temper. The neighbouring chiefs have visited 
me, and continue to send me presents of game and 
salutary herbs; I feel myself less agitated and 
more resigned than I was before this unsuccessful 
attempt : the pleasing sentiment of gratitude has 
taken possession of my breast, and inspires me 
with a growing regard for my generous enemies. 
When I can find any object of friendship or af- 



25 

fectlon> I shall not be totally wretched; but my 
heart cannot support life without attachment. 

Vercennis, the wife of Cariovaldas, has been 
my physician on this occasion, as she had been 
when I first arrived here from Teutoburgium. 
She is a matron greatly esteemed in this country 
for her knowledge* in the medical art, and for 
her supposed skill in divination and prophecy ; 
but her conversation affords little pleasure, nor 
have I found in her, or in the other women 
whom I have met, any of those graces, or of 
that gentleness of manners which are the natural 
characteristics of the sex in civilized countries : 
it must indeed be owned they are free from many 
of the faults objected to our fair countrywomen ; 
they are neither vain, capricious, nor artful; 
they accompany their husbands to the field, and 
share in all the dangers of war ; they busy 
themselves in every economical duty, which we 
leave to the care of our domestic slaves ; yet are 
they on many occasions more respected than the 
haughtiest and most amiable of our Roman la- 
dies. No'xlowry is given with a daughter when 
she marries; on the contrary, a present is made 
to her father on the occasion, and to her is con- 

* Velleins Patercolus. 



26 

signed t lance with other mititary itistrumetits. 
There has been to me always somethii^ disgust- 
ing in the character of an Amaiton^ and I am 
more disposed to esteem Uian admire die fkir 
Cheruscans : I wiU> however^ confess that I have 
had few opportunities of seeing'* and conversing 
with any of the younger ; they are indeed al^ 
lowed all the liberty they desire^ but they make 
a very moderate use of it. I have 8ometim<e8 
perceived them discoursing familiarly with the 
young men of their own country^ but hate net 
observed either design or gallantry in their in- 
tercourse ; as for me^ they seem studiously to 
avoid my society^ and their countrymen take 
great pains to confirm them in such reserve. 
These entertain the most disadvantageous idea 
of the morals of the Romans ; and are pei^suad-^ 
ed that a man who neither loves gaming, ncft the 
Bacchanalian orgies> which are their chief de-^ 
Ught> can have no other way of spending his 
time than in the seduction of women ; and as 
they never adoili their pei^sons but to appear 
more terrible to the enemy> they consider all 
elegance and even neatness of dress, as marks of 
effeminacy and libertinism : in the same mannel*> 
as they suppose, that the study of eloquence can 



«7 

only tend to the purposes of deceit, and that of 
philosophy to the ruin of religion. 

With these ideas you may imagine that they 
are far from heing ambitious of acquiring the 
knowledge of Greece and Rome. The ignorance 
most difficult to conquer is that which proceeds 
from pride : the Cheruscans will never be rea- 
soned into a desire of improvement ; but they^ 
as well as every other nation, may be seduced by 
the charms of luxury. However, there is some- 
thing awfully rigid in their virtue, which, on 
many occasions, incites them to actions as noble 
as those that are the result of the most enlighten- 
ed philosophy ; yet I must still assert that their 
merit is inferior to ours : their passions are far 
less violent, they have more patience, greater 
coolness, and, in general, more indifference for 
every thing that forms the object of our hopes 
and fears. Money as yet is of little consequence 
to the Germans, and if avarice is to be found 
. amount them, it consists rather in the fear of 
loss, than in the desire of gain. They hazard 
no commercial speculations, and hold even agri« 
culture in little esteem : they prefer the devasta- 
tion of their neighbours lands to the improvement 
of their own : they exchange presents with each 
other, but neither make a merit of their b9unty. 



28 

nor feel much gratitude for what they re- 
ceive. 

The hardships and inconveniences to which 
they are daily exposed^ are perhaps the cause of 
the excesses into which they plunge themselves 
to drive away thought. Were their sobriety 
equal to their frugality and valour, they would 
be almost unconquerable ; but they scarcely ever 
make the "proper use of a victory, as they fre- 
quently suffer themselves to be surprised and de- 

' feated, when, afler a successful . engagement, 
their banquet has put them into a condition that 
renders then incapable of resistance. 

These banquets are likewise held for deliberat- 
ing on public affairs, but nothing is concluded 
till the next day, when the heads are cool and 
the passions less agitated. This they consider as 
One of the best of their institutions, as they are 
obliged to give their opinions when every tongue 
IS supposed to utter the language of the heart ; 
sand these opinions are discussed, and considered, 
when their reason and judgment are in full and 
temperate force. 
It may be expected thai in these political ban- 

• qUets, unlike those said to have been introduced 
by Italus to civilize and gain the hearts of his 
people, frequent disputes and controversies will 



29 

arise ; and I have been told that on these occa- 
sions^ few words are employed to decide the 
contest, but the sword is immediately drawn, 
and most of the feasts terminate like that of the 
Lapidiae. Cariovaldas has received as many 
wounds from his patriotism in the council, ar 
from his bravery in the field : whence you may 
conclude that the strongest and most active chief> 
must always have the best of the argument. 
Whether this inconvenience is greater than what 
arises from more polished manners, is to me un- 
certain : acuteness of mind may as easily fall 
to the share of a traitor, as strength of body. 
The Roman Who prefers his private interest to 
that of his country, may be. possessed of more 
eloquence and greater power of persuasion than 
the most zealous and upright of his fellow citi- 
zens ; his superior talents may do as much hurt 
as the sword of the traitorous German, who 
may unfortunately wield it with a more vigorous^ 
arm than his honester countrjrman. Prejudice 
alone makes us insensible of the empire of se-: 
duction, while we are constantly on our guard 
against that of force; but the councils of a 
civilized republic are in fact not more free tljian 
those of the barbarians. 



so 



LETTER VII. 

1 CANNOT descnbe to you, Sepdmiufi, the 
Surprise and satisfaction which I have experienc- 
ed since my last letter : I told you that most of 
the neighbouring chiefs had expressed a parti* 
cular esteem for me> and sent me presents 
during my confinement. Yesterday Vcrceniiis 
entered my care^ and informed me that some 
slaves were arrived from an intimate friend of 
Cariovaldas, named Manfred, whose possessions 
being more distant than the others, he had not 
been enabled sooner to assure me of his regard* 
Scarcely had die spoken, when the slaves ap-« 
peared bearing a wild boar, and a quantity 
of lesser game ; they were followed by a person 

t 

habited nearly like tfaemsdves, but whose air 
and features immediately struck me : judge of 
my filings, when I really foimd him to be the 
person I imagined, the Grecian Fhilocles/ You 
may remenriier he \ras the friend of Vams^ and 
accompanied him on his expedition iota 6er-< 
many : the livehness of his wit, the gentleness 



31 

^ his ma&nersj tbe elegant aiul extensive know- 
kdge witb whkk he ia endowed; rendered his 
society infinitely s^eeable, not only to the ge« 
i^fftl, bijit to every offi<^r in the army. I wel- 
Ciomed him with transport^ and at the same time 
expdressed my re^et at seeing him in a condition 
e%uaUy wretched with my own ; but he seemed 
onty sensible to the happiness of finding me ; 
and related, that havisng been taken prisoner by 
Manfred, during the pillage of the camp, he 
had ever since been his slave ; and had expe* 
rienced fircHaa him no very unfavourable treats 
ment; that bearing a wounded Boman was 
confined in the dominions of Cmovaldas, he 
had requested of his master to permit him 
t^ accompany the presents, though he had no 
e^ipecta^um of meeting me^ whom he supposed 
to have bepn left slain on the field of battle. He 
now earnestly entreated me ^o prevail on Cario- 
valdas to take him into^his hou^ld, and engage 
Manfred ter exchange him for one of his slaves. 
Cadovaldai^ readily conaqplied, oor condition that 
h^ should return the next day to his master to» 
obtain his permission ; andi has. this Booming 
dispatched on^, of his most intelhg^t slavesii to 
attend Philocles, and, if Manfred approves of 
him, to remain in bi3 platce. 



. 36 

We have passed the night in recapitulating; 
the dreadful event, which reduced us to this state 
of exile and captivity. Philocles could give me 
little intelligence that was later than my own ; 
he has, however, encreased my horror and in- 
dignation by his description* of the insults com-* 
mitted by the barbarians on the once victorious 
eagles, and other trophies of Roman glory, but 
now of Roman shame. I was obliged to stop 
him in the midst of his narration; fori could 
not endure to hear from Grecian lips the dis- 
graces we have experienced. I was covered with 
confusion, and Philocles, after gently reproving 
me for my want of philosophy, turned the con • 
versation to other topics, with that urbanity to 
which I have lately been a stranger, and which 
is certainly one of the greatest consolations in 
life ; but his conversation has reminded me of 
pleasures which I ought to forget, if I would ex- 
pect to enjoy any degree of content in these de- 
serts ; and I fear the vivacity of my imagination 
may make me pay too dear for the momentary 
happiness I have indulged in conversing with 
a man of genius and education. 

I anxiously inquired of him whether he had 

* Velleios Patercolus. 



33 

gained any information of the state of Rome 
since our captivity ; and I find that in this par- 
ticular he has not been more fortunate than my* 
self. The answers he has given me, relative to 
the almost universal destruction of our army, 
have made me more wretched than I was while 
I could please myself with supposing improba- 
bilities. He informs me, that all were destroyed 
on the field, except the tribunes and centuridns 
of the first ranks, whom I saw massacred in 
the sacred wood, and a few prisoners who have 
mostly fallen to the share of the Marsians. 
This dreadful certainty has renewed all my grief; 
I mourn for my friends as if they were this 
moment lost ; and yet I cannot express to you 
the satisfaction which I feel in the hope of hav- 
ing Philocles near me. I shall think myself no 
longer a solitary being, in the midst of a crowd 
who can take no part in my sufferings ; I 
. shall even be able to improve myself in various 
branches of literature and philosophy, which the 
Grecian possesses in a supreme degree : solitude 
with such resources will have lost its horrors, 
and my heart may once more open itself to 
social delights : I cannot describe to you my im- 
patience for his return. 
Vol. I. D 



34 



LETTER VIII. 

JVlY wishes have been gratified, and a long in-^ 
terval of my captivity has been rendered less 
irksome by the society of a polished mind. Phi- 
locles is my fellow slave, or rather, by the in- 
dulgence of Cariovaldas, he enjoys almost equal 
liberty with myself; however, I cannot wholly 
conquer the prepossessions of the chief against 
him ; he makes a great distinction between us, 
and I perceive that the liberality with which he 
treats him is entirely on my account, and in 
consequence of my continual repeated recom- 
mendations. 

The pleasing conversation of this philosopher 
compensates many of my sufferings ; his cheer- 
fulness is invincible, and the variety of his 
knowledge is a source of constant entertain- 
ment; nay, what is incomprehensible even to 
myself, who am spectator of the prodigies which 
he brings to pass, he bas gained the affection 
and excited the curiosity of all the Cheruscans 
of this district, except Cariovaldas; he has not 



35 

been above" fhrfee months my companion^ and 
he has already m^e a greater progress in the 
minds of the people, than I Have done in near 
two years of residence amongst them. 

Ybu know* his figure is commanding, his 
counti^nance infinitely pleasing, his voice melo- 
diousy atid his elocution - easy and natural ; 
though yoii Would imagine the last of these ad- 
vantages to be of little consequence to Him in 
Germany, as he has taken no pains to acquire 
the language, and is not likely to find many 
Chertiseans ui^ho understand Greek. You re- 
membe^r how unwillingly he spoke Latin at Ronie, 
and with What difficulty we prevailed on him to 
lay aside his usiial prejudices, alid to hold acon- 
versaticJti in the language of our country, when 
he was invited to the Vilfe of Valerius, who so 
. often expressed his disgust at this vanity which 
prevails aitfortg the Grecians, and who never 
gave way to it, except when they cdme to im- 
plore his' prbteclion. Philocles now converses 
partly by signs/ apd partly in Latin, with those 
who understand our idiom ; many of them hav- 
ing acqiii red the means of expressing thenaselves 
by their frequent wars with the Romans, and 
their long intercourse with oui^ armies. I could 

D 2 



S6 

not forbear remarking to him the necessity to 
which he was reduced ; he rephed, it should not 
continue long, that of two foreign languages he 
preferred the least barbarous, meaning the lan- 
guage of Rome, but hoped he should soon in- 
duce the Germans to utter sounds more analo- 
gous to his ideas: this hope seems not to be 
groundless, sinc<^ he has already formed a school, 
and instructs his pupils with astonishing patience 
and assiduity. 

, One of the principal causes of his popularity 
is the connexion he has made with Norbert, 
chief priest of the neighbouring wood. He has 
openly professed himself his admirer and dis- 
ciple, attends him every day to be initiated in 
the traditional knowledge of the country, and, 
at his return, relates to me the various circum- 
stances of their worship and belief, with which 
I was before unacquainted. You know his sen- 
timents in regard to religion, and therefore will 
imagine he makes no scruple of submitting to 
any ceremony, which may answer the purpose 
of curiosity or speculation : he has even cap- 
tivated the friendship of Vercennis, by listening 
to her rhapsodies and explanations of the gift of 
prophecy, with which she supposes herself en- 
dowed. His botanical studies, which he pur- 



37 

sues with great ardour^ gave him the reputation 
of collecting herbs for the purposes of magic ; 
in which he at first endeavoured to undeceive the 
people ; but finding their opinions only more 
confirmed by his denials^ he now gives them 
leave to conjecture that he is a learned magi- 
cian, but that he is more willing to employ his 
art for the benefit, than for the detriment of 
mankind. 

As he is no longer in the prime of youth, and 
assumes a gravity and austerity of manners 
which I never observed in him during his resi- 
dence in the Roman camp, the young people of 
both' sexes are encouraged by their parents to 
cultivate his society. He has chosen for his 
habitation, amongst the caves destined for the 
better order of slaves belonging to Cariovaldas, 
a grotto overgrown with ivy, conveniently situa- 
ted on the banks of a small rivulet, and shaded 
by immense oaks ; the place is not unpleasing, 
and here he seats himself with his lyre, and 
sings to a numerous auditory the praises of those 
Divinities who are adored in common by the 
Greeks and Germans, such as Apollo,* Vulcan, 
and Diana. The number of his visitors daily in- 

* Caesar's Commentaries, Book 6. 



38 

creases^ and it is not uninteresting to behold the 
group that. is formed around him: at night he 
explains to them the motions of the celestial 
bodies^ teaches them the Grecian name$ of the 
stars, and is now beginning to initiate them in 
the fabulous history of those personages who 
have given their names to the different con- 
stellations. There is so much of the marvellous 
in this part of his astronomical instructions, that 
it makes a deep impression on his hearers, 
and greatly adds to their veneration. 

His time is thus engaged in diversified em- 
ployinents, and he often exhorts me to make use 
of similar means, to conquer the melancholy by 
whiqh I am engrossed. When we are alone he 
composes orations, and repeats them with such 
grace and energy as raise my wonder, and ex- 
cite my emulation ; but the moment he departs^ 
I relapse into my usual despair, or employ my 
thoughts in forming wild schemc;s for my return 
to Rome ; while the improbabihty of ever put- 
ting them in execution only increases my impa- 
tience, and causes these ideas to take still £ister 
hold on my imagination* 



39 



LETTER IX. 

VjUR philosopher is hecome the oracle of the 
Cheruscans : he has instructed many in the lan- 
guage of his country : he has access to every ha- 
bitation^ and^ by a special favour^ the priests 
have enjoined Cariovaldas to free him from the 
condition of a slave. A portion of ground has 
been allotted for his subsistence, and he has 
found means to render his cave, and the hut 
which he has built over it, more commodious 
and more s^reeable than I could have imagined 
possible in so barbarous a country. He has in- 
troduced many articles of furniture, executed 
not without ingenuity from his instructions ; he 
has laid out a garden, and filled it with various 
plants, which he observed growing wild, and 
which culture has rendered useful and pleas- 
ing. 

Two days since was celebrated the feast of 
the summer solstice ; the Germans have on this 
idbcasion many superstitious ceremonies, at which 
I^hilocles assisted. Towards evening he invited 



40. 

to his habitation the priests, bards, and princi* 
pal chiefs of the neighbourhood. A collation of 
various fruits, herbs, and milk, prepared in a 
different manner, before unknown to his guests, 
was served with a neatness and propriety of 
which they had no idea. The table was spread 
in a grove, on the borders of the rivulet* ; every 
person was crowned with flowers; and per- 
fumes, extracted by the direction of Philocles 
from various odoriferous shrubs, were showered 
on the company, according to the custom of 
the Grqeks, from vases which he had prepared 
for that purpose. As soon as the collation was 
removed, twelve youths and virgins, trained by 
him to imitate the dances of the Athenians, and 
guided by the melody of a flute, not ill managed 
by one of his pupils, advanced, and celebrated 
the triumph of summer, saluting the western 
sun with various ceremonies, borrowed partly 
from the Greeks, and partly from the Germans. 
After this, from behind the oaks, appeared 
a beautiful young woman about eighteen years of 
age, clothed in white, with a purple girdle, 
on which was embroidered the image of the 
sun ; her head was crowned with ears of corn, 
ajid her auburn hair, disposed with artful neg- 
ligence, hung in ringlets on her shoulders j the 



41 

dazzling whiteness of her complexion, the ce- 
lestial azure of her eyes, the air of ingenuous 
candour in her countenance, the simplicity and 
modesty that appeared in all her actions, attract- 
ed my whole attention, and made me suppose 
myself in a dream. She advanced while the 
dancers formed themselves into a semicircle be- 
hind her, and having, in graceful and slow mea- 
sures, paid her adoration to the sun, she fixed 
herself in the most elegant attitude, with her 
eyes directed to the radiant globe, till it was 
lost beneath the horizon ; then with a soft air, 
and tuneful voice, she sung an ode in praise of 
Apollo, the other virgins and youths accompany- 
ing her as a chorus. 

ITie whole assembly was struck with amaze- 
ment, and considered Philocles as something: 
more than mortal. I will own to you, Septimius, 
my thoughts were, at that moment, differently 
engaged. I had recognized the features of seve- 
ral of the dancers, but the beautiful representa- 
tive of summer was entirely unknown to me, and 
I anxiously wished to discover her. Philocles 
smiled at my surprise, and assuring me he had 
made a mystery of this entertainment merely to 
divert me from the melancholy that preyed upon 



42 

my spirits^ promised^ when we should be akme^ 
to give me every intelligence I might desire. 

The lovely dancer, and her companions, re- 
tired into the grove, and disappeared. The 
guests sat late, and, according to the custom of 
their country, returned to their habitations almost 
in a state of stupefaction. I had long before lefl 
their society, and joined Cariovaldas, whom I 
found sitting in a thoughtful posture at the door 
of his dwelling ; I told him that I regretted his 
presence was wanting to the pleasures in which 
I had been a sharer. He answered with a sigh, 
'' Marcus ! your Grecian, without apparent de- 
sign, fights the battles of the Romans ; the bold 
and steady Marius, the great and ever victorious 
Caesar, the noble Drusus, and the cautious and 
skilful Tiberius have never done so much injury 
to the Cheruscans as the seducing and deceitful 
Philocles. You are too young, too honest, and 
too brave to perceive the ills into which he is 
plunging this unhappy nation ; yes, my generous 
enemy, you must weep over us ; if you could ima- 
gine how one man has already succeeded in sowing 
the seeds of corruption amongst us. You would 
seek to conquer us by open and noble hostility ; 
but this man, under the ma^ of friendship, is 



43 

undermining the solid basis of our glory^ and 
poisoning the sources of our courage and patriot- 
ism. He^ has already seduced our instructors, 
the guardians of our laws, and the scourges of 
our crimes. But I haye at least not to reproach 
myself with authorising^ by my presence and 
example^ the illusion which spreads so rapidly 
through this district." 

Cariovaldas spoke these words with peculiar 
energy> and I had never before seen him so much 
animated. I took^ however^ some pains to plead 
for Philocles, and endeavour to convince the 
chief, that polished manners, and elegant studies, 
far from corrupting the mind, tended to heighten 
and improve every honourable sentiment. He 
made no teply, but retired in apparent iH- 
humour. 



44 



LETTER X. 

X HE Grecian returned late, and not waiting 
for my inquiries, told me that the amiable per- 
son who had seemed to make some impression on 
me, was named Bertha ; that she was the daugh- 
ter of a chief, related to Arminius ; and that her 
father had fallen in a skirmish with the Romans : 
that she lived with his only surviving brother, at 
a small distance from the sacred wood ; and that 
her uncle and protector was the intimate friend 
of Norbert the chief priest, with whom he had 
often visited their habitation, and instructed the 
young and ingenuous Bertha in the language and 
music of the Athenians. He spoke much of the 
sweetness of her temper, and of the progress she 
had made in her studies, but complained of her 
wanting animation and vivacity. " She is,''* add- 
ed he, '* greatly attached to the religion of her 
country, and scrupulously observes its most su- 
perstitious rites ; she looks on its ministers as the 
interpreters of the Gods, and treats me with the 
tame kind of deference and respect, because I 



45 

have been introduced to her as a friend and dis- 
ciple of Norbert." 

I hope, answered I, that you will never give 
her cause to repent of the confidence ^he has 
placed in you; and I am certain that Philocles 
has too much delicacy of sentiment to entertain 
any. ideas repugnant to that respect which is 
ever due to innocence and candour. However, I 
must inform you that Cariovaldas is by no means 
pleased with your success among the Cheruscans ; 
I would advise you to be more cautious, and ra- 
ther to introduce those customs of your country 
that may tend to improvement than delight. 

" As for Bertha," replied the philosopher, " I 
have had no other view in her instruction than 
the desire of improving a mind and person not 
unworthy of my cares. You cannot suspeqt a 
man, who has lived more than thirty years 
amongst the most beautiful and accomplished wo« 
men of Greece and Italy, to be enraptiired with 
the mere natural charms of a young barbarian ; 
particularly a man who has other pursuits and more 
serious studies. My chief motive for placing her, 
as the principal figure, in my group of dancers, 
was to give you the agreeable surprise of a mo- 
ment ; and my instructions will only serve to scat- 
ter a few flowers in the thorny path to which fate 



46 

has condemned ber. The fears of Cariovaldai^* 
are natural to the ignorant, and I heartily forgive 
him for despising refinements of which he can 
never know the value. Let him console himself 
with the assurance that during his life the Cherus- 
cans will neither be too learned, nor too elegant ; 
many ages revolve before a barbarous nation be- 
comes civilized, and the lapse from civilization 
to effeminacy requires a succession of years, 
though I will own its gradations are somewhat 
more rapid than those of the former/' 

" But,'* said I, interrupting him, " do you not 
allow the possibility that a nation may sink into 
effeminacy without ever having risen to civiliza- 
tion?'* 

" I do not believe this probable of the Ger- 
mans,*' answered Philocles a little disconcerted ; 
" I have neither the power nor intention of cor- 
rupting them ; but if I could substitute gentlehess 
of manner^ for the haughty ferocity which forms 
their present character, surely I should do them 
no inconsiderable service. This nation, not un-^ 
like your Romans in the first ages of the repub- 
lic, is attentive to observe every kind of disci- 
pline that strengthens the body ; but pays little 
regard to the universally allowed superior culti- 
vation of the mind." 



47 

*' It is certain^ Philocles/' answered I, " both 
the mind and the body require exercise and at- 
tention ; but there is something still more impor- 
tant^ which is often neglected by polished as well 
as barbarous nations ; thi9 our ancient Romans 
never forgot, I mean the improvement of tie 
heart." 

'' It is just," said Philocles ; "I agree with 
your maxim, and as a proof of my approbation, 
I leave to you the care of forming the heart of my 
fair pupil : I have reason to beheve you will not 
be displeased with the employment" 

After these words, which he accompanied 
with a smile, he left me to my reflections ; 
which in my next letter, Septimius ; I will com- 
municate to you. 



48 



LETTER XI. 

After Philocks had left me, I attentively 
considered the conversation which had passed 
between us, and revolved in my mind the whole 
of his conduct since his arrival in this country. 
I will confess to you, Septimius, that I began to 
be nearly of the same opinion with Cariovaldas. 
Bertha had pleased me — you know I am not in- 
sensible to the charms of beauty, but the manner 
in which the Grecian spoke of her to me had too 
much the air of design not to excite in me some 
degree of contempt for him, and much compas- 
sion for her. At that instant the remembrance 
of Aurelia came to my assistance ; I considered 
Philocles as a man who wanted to drive her from 
my thoughts, and engage me in a snare, which 
might make me insensible of his treacherous in- 
tentions against the persons who had first received 
him on my recommendation. The more I gave 
way to this idea, the more my suspicions and dis- 
like of the philosopher augmented; but if I could 



49 

• 

oo longer give him my esteem, where should I 
find a friend, a companion ? This reflection af- 
fected me : I wished to suppose his intentions 
innoceiit, that I might not lose the satisfaction I 
experienced in hia sotiety : however my douhts 
were too great to allow me ta^seek for a justifica- 
tion from himself: I knew his eloquence, and 
feared his power of persuasion. The next day I 
avoided him, and sought every opportunity of 
conversing with Cariovaldas; but he is seldom 
c(Mnmunicative> and always reserved : I admire 
his virtues, but can form no intimatte coniiexion 
with him. It is said his son is more polished 
•. than most of his countrymen, and yet possesses 
' all their firmness and sincerity ; how unfortunate 
am I that he does not inhabit this part of the 
country I Yet, O Septimius ! what could make 
me amends for thy absence?" Shall we never 
again enjoy those hours of confidential inter- 
course, which completed our mutual happiness, 
and confirmed us in every noble pursuit ? 

I have still some reason to believe that Philo- 
cles is not so guilty as I at first imagined; the 
natural genius of the Greeks leads them to cheer- 
fulness and a love of amusement : whether they 
are more reprehensible than those who pass their 
lives in gloomy solicitude, deserves at least to be 
Vou h E 



50 

' examined; and nothing but an insensible being 
could reject the desire of associating virtue with 
pleasure. , 

I have determined to watch narrowly the con- 
duct of our philosopher, and should there be any 
truth in the suspicions of Cariovaldas, will use 
every effort to repair the injuries of« whicli I may 
have been an involuntary promoter. This morn- 
ing I found him at the entrance of his cave, sur- 
rounded by his pupils, amongst whom was the 
lovely Bertha, who had accompanied her uncle : 
I saluted her respectfully, and 'she seemed much 
confused at my appearance, returned a few words 
to the compliment I made her on her performance 
at the celebration of the feast of the solstice, and 
took her place to listen attentively to the lessons 
of Philocles. 

His imagination easily furnishes him with in- 
structive fables, and his eloquence conveys them 
in terms so pleasing and so well chosen, that I 
shall wrong him by repeating them from me- 
mory; yet I cannot refuse myself the satis- 

' faction of giving you an idea of this morning's 
lesson, with the sentiments of which I found my- 
self greatly interested, though I know not whether 
they had the same effect on the rest of his audi- 
tory. Vanity, it is true, may be often found 



51 

IgLTnongst uncivilized nations, as it is the usual 
companion of ignorance; but its growth is infi- 
nitely more luxuriant in cultivated soils. This 
fable was originally composed at Rhodes, in an- 
swer to a question of Tiberius^ who, strangely 
fond of mythological subjects, once gave the fol- 
lowing question, as a theme to various men of 
letters, whom he had assembled, 

" What was the usual song of the 

'^ SYRENS ?'** 

You will judge whether the answer of t^hilocles 
was well adapted. He reports that Tiberius, at 
that time disgusted with the world, and tortured 
by hopdess ambition, applauded highly the 
moral of the fable, and heartily joined in censur- 
ing the vanity of others, while he despaired of 
ever gratifying his own. 

* Life of Tiberias. The islands of the Syrens are thret 
roeksy aead'ly opposite the Cape of Minerva, in the Gulph 
of Sorrento. A colony of Enboeans are said to have peo- 
pled all the coast near Naples. 



£ 2 



• I 



52, 



THE SYRENS, 



THE Sea Nymphs^ who presided over the 
beautiful coasts of Hesperia, having long observed 
with compassion the wrecks occasioned by the 
delusive song of the Syrens, appeared at the court 
of Olympus, and in «i suppliant manner besought 
that Jupiter would put an end to the allurements 
of the fatal rocks. They represented to the Father 
of the Gods that the innocent and guilty were 
alike exposed to destruction, since scarcely a 
vessel passed near the spot without meeting its 
ruin ; and they requested he would find some 
other means to punish the undeserving, and re- 
move an illusion by which so many heroes had 
perished. 

Jupiter listened calmly to their remonstrances, 
and answered in the following manner. 

''You might have been assured, O Nereids! 
that whatever is done on your globe ijs pon^orm- 
able to my intentions ;. consequently you had no 
right to question the justice of a punishment, of 
which the Syrens are only the ^ ministers. You 
confess that many of the victims are deserving of 
their fate ; and I shall now deign to convince you 
that all who are shipwrecked on the rocks, which 
have excited your displeasure, merit that com« 



53 

passion alone which superior bemgs naturally 
grant to the errors of mortals. Bepair to those 
fatal islands/ and attend to all that happens.*' 

The nymphs obeyed, and took their station on 
the rock belonging to the elder of the Syrens. 
They observed that the allurements of the two 
younger had destroyed more numerous, but more 
ignoble victims; such as the votaries of sloth, 
pleasure, interest, and other passions of the mean- 
er sort : they were therefore desirous of being in- 
formed in what consisted the magic of the most 
powerful seducer, before whom the proudest 
vessels had struck. 

The first that appeared was a stately galley 
richly ornamented, and impelled by a prosperous 
wind : the sails were of purple, and on the banners 
shone the eagle of Jupiter, embroidered in 
gold : on the prow stood a man of beautiful as- 
pect and majestic figure ; he held a golden scep- 
tre in his hand, and his temples were bound with 
a sacred fillet. 

No sooner did the vessel approach the shore, 
than the Syren thus began her song : 

" All hail to thee. Diodes ! high priest of Ju- 
piter ! beloved by Gods and men ! prosperous be 
thy voyage to the Sicilian shores, where the 
thronging inhabitants of Sjnracusa are waiting on 



54 

the port with eyes raised to heaven, in longing 
expectation of thy amval. Hear, O my sisters ! 
hear, O ye Tritons and Nereids of the Eaboean 
coasts, the virtues of Diodes and the favours be- 
stowed on him by the immortals/' 

" Born of a distinguished race, adorned with 
all the graces of mind and person. Diodes was 
early set apart for the service of Jupiter: edu- 
cated within his temple, he learned, not only 
the sacred mysteries of his profession, but every 
elegance which art and literature can inspire. 
The favour of his sovereign, who raised him even 
superior to envy, only served to gain him more 
effectually the hearts of his fellow-citizens. 
Which of the inhabitants of Syracusa had not 
reason to applaud the choice of their prince? 
Which of them did not owe some ^advantage to 
the influence of Diodes ? What thousands of 
poor received daily nourishment at his gate ! what 
numerous and splendid gifts he bestowed on the 
temples of the Immortals ! with what dignity he 
has always supported the sacerdotal power, and 
what magnificent banquets are the share of those 
guests whom he honours by his invitations ! Such« 
Diodes, has been thy life; and what can be 
more glorious than thy late negotiation with the 
priests of Janus in Etruria !* The care of the high 

* The ancient name of Tuscany. 



55 

temple of Jupiter in Syracusa, the fiiit sacerdo- 
tal honours of thy country, have been granted 
thee as a reward : return, and enjoy them." 

Whilst the Syren continued hei* song, the Ne- 
reids watched the countenance of Diocles, who 
could not conceal the pleasure he felt ; the cup 
of libation, which he was rearing to salute the 
fane of Minerva on the opposite promontory, 
fell from his hands : he wished to hear more dis- 
tinctly the song of flattery : he commanded the 
pilot to steer closer to the rock, and in an instant 
the dreadful eddy swallowed up the sacred and 
magnificent galky. 

Soon came in sight another vessel, less pom- 
pous than the former, but large, and well equip- 
ped; nothing could exceed the skilfulness or dis- 
cipline of the crew; they were commanded by 
an aged personage of a tlioughtful and severe ap- 
pearance. 

" Blessed be thy presence,*' cried the cruel 
Syren, " just and wise Sophronomos ! famed is 
thy government over all the plains of Hesperia ; 
the cities of Campania,* restored to their pris- 
tine tranquillity by thy prudent and firm authori- 



• Now called Terra di LaverO; part of his Sicilian Ma. 
jesty's dominions. 



56 

ty, applaud thy wisdom^ while they bend beneath 
thy laws. How far superior are these honours to 
the distinctions of birth! Thy advancement is 
owing to thy ability and talents^ and with reason 
thou lookest down on those of noble blood who 
have remained so far behind thee. Fear not the 
power of fate, since thy wisdom raises thee su- 
perior to its influence." 

Sophronom'os was not more insensible than, 
Diocles to the charms of adulation, but comman- 
ded the pilot ta direct his vessel nearer to the 
rock. In vain did the fearful mariner endeavour 
to oppose his will — ^the wise legislator was obeyed 
and perished. 

A light and well-armed galley next appeared : 
youth, liveliness, and vigour distinguished the 
rowers ; the song of triumph resounded through 
the ranks, and at the head of the troop was seen 
a warrior in shining armour; his eyes sparkled 
with fire, his every action was noble and assured, 
a lofty plumage nodded on his crest, and he 
seemed impatient at the situation to which his 
ardour was confined. 

" Glorious Aristomachos !" exclaimed the Sy* 
ren, ** the Euboean shores salute thy trophied gal- 
ley. Mighty conqueror ! receive opr adorations* 
Accustomed from thy earliest years to the applause 



57 

of an admiring world, disdain not the congratu- 
lations of the nymphs of these rocks; approach, 
and know how well we are informed of thy ex- 
l^oits in the army of the warlike king of Thrace, 
with whom thou ' enteredst on thy career of vic- 
tory, when, indignant at repose, thou hadst left 
thy paternal house, and native Macedon. We 
are not ignorant of thy conquests in Magna Gre- 
cia, where thy victorious arms, at the head of 
this adventurous hand of young warriors, suh- ^ 
dued the proud Crotona,* and the delightful Sy- 
haris ;t of thy late distinguished success hefore 
the haughty Rhegium,| whose stately bulwarks 
in vain opposed thy courage — may thy conquests 
extend from pole to pole, and may thy laurels 
ever bloom refreshed with the blopd of new ene- 
mies/' 

Neither Aristomachos, nor his friends, could 
resist the seduction : they drew near the rock, 
and the boasted conqueror fell before the Sy- 
ren. 

While the Nereids were lamenting his fate 
the gentle music of a lyre was heard from afar, 

* Ancient cities of Magna Grecia, long since destroyed, 
t Sybaris is supposed to have been near Corigliano. 
it Reggio, a city of Calabiia, opposite to Messina. 



58 

and the notes, wafted on the light wings of the 
zephyrs, announced on the prow of a Leshian 
vessel the poet Terpander, whose skilful hand 
touched the lyre, while his voice accompanied 
the harmonious sounds in sublimest verse. He 
sung the creative power of fancy ; the magic of 
eloquence; the piercing eye of science; the di- 
vine inspiration of poetry; the breathing marble, 
and animated colours. Attentive to his own song, 
it- was long before he heard that of the Syren : 
but scarcely had he listened for a moment, when 
his skill failed him, his hand no longer distin* 
guished the chords of his instrument, and the 
unfinished accents died on his tongue. 

" Celestial poet !" sung the Syren, " without 
thee, what are sages and heroes ? It is by thy art 
alone they are rendered immortal. What won- 
der if thou art sought and courted more than 
monarchs ? Approach, approach, and let me 
learn to imitate the heavenly strains of a mor- 
tal." 

Terpander obeyed, and his vessel was dashed 
to pieces. The Nerejds wept his fall, wondering 
that the folly of vanity should be joined with such 
superior talents, and were now convinced of the 
justice of Jupiter. " What avail," said they, 
'' virtues or qualities of which the possessors are 



59 

80 vain ? Know they not that all they <enjoy, all 
that distinguishes them, is the gift of heaven : 
or dare they attribute its favours to their ovm 
merit ? They are justly punished for their ingra- 
titude. Let us depart with this useful lesson, 
never to question the decrees of our immortal 
sovereign/' 

They were about to leave the rock, when the 
voice of the Syren being again heard, they 
turned to see what .vessel was to be next the 
prey of the cruel sisters. 

They were astonished to perceive only a small 
boat, in which were a few persons simply dressed. 
The rays of the setting sun shone directly on a^ 
young man of lofty stature, whose animated and 
open countenance expressed all that sensibility, 
spirit, and virtue cai> inspire. His companions 
seemed to treat him with respect, though he 
took on himself the most laborious part of the 
duty; and while the small number of rowers 
made the bark advance slowly, the Syren ad- 
dressed the chief in these words. 

" Godlike Eumenes ! truth itself would appear 
to be the fable of adulation, were I to recount 
all thy virtues, all thy glorjous deeds. Brave 
companions of this excellent youth, you, who 
have shared his dangers^ and his praises, bear 



GO 

witness to the truth of my word! your hero, 
your Eumenes, born of a noble family in Sam- 
jiium,* trained up to arms from his infancy, is 
equally versed in the studies of a philosopher, 
and the duties of a warrior; You know the glo- 
ry he acquired in defending his country, and re- 
venging his father's death on tlie base Lucanians, 
who, by treachery, had defeated that brave and 
experienced general. You know the honours 
bestowed on him by the Samnite council ; his 
generous forgiveness of those enemies whom jea- 
lousy had raised against him; his unexampled 
kindness to his friends, and his impartial justice 
towards all men. You know that he resigned the 
government of the republic, because he could 
.not, without confirming the authority of a ty- 
rant, enforce such laws as alone would render his 
fellow-citizens virtuous and happy. Every Sam- 
nite repeats, with admiration, the eloquent dis- 
course which he pronounced when he gave up 
the reins of empire, and resolved to retire to the 
island of Prochyte,f there to pass his days in 
tranquillity, study, and friendship. O glorious 
young man ! why should not the universe be ac- 
quainted with thy wisdom and thy virtues ? Ap- 

* Now part of the kingdom of Naples. 
t Procide, an islaud near Naples. 



61 

proach nearer ; hear how thou art revered oti 
these cbastd ; how the Eiiboean people are re- 
solved to restore thee to thy republic with greater 
honours than before^ to vindicate thy rights^ and 
to establish the sovereignty of thy laws/' 

The Syren would have continued, but the 
boat was out of sight. The hero smiled, and 
with a blush, turning to his companions, said, 
" How meanly must yonder nymph think of 
me, if she supposes that I would arrogate to my- 
self any merit from my conduct. I have only 
consulted my own heart, and I could not have 
acted otherwise. I wish for the approbation of 
the virtuous, but I care not for the suffrage of 
a giddy multitude, since I have sufficiently expe- 
rienced the follies of ambition.^' 

The Nereids quitted the rock, and accompa- 
nied the humble bark to the island of Prochyte. 
Eumenes and his companions went on shore : but 
while they were preparing a sacrifice of thanks, 
a deputation frovn. the senate, and people of 
Samnium, arrived, and entreated his ]*eturn, as 
a new war was impending^ and his aid was be- 
come necessary. He neither hesitated, nor made 
any terms with the ambassadors, but flew to save 
his country, and was victorious. 

The Nereids returned to the court of Cflym- 



62 



pus ; they bowed their heads before the throne of 
Jupiter. " Dread Sovereign !" cried they, '*" thy 
decrees are just, and we deserve to fall as victims 
before the rocks of thy ministers, if we ever 
more presume to set our judgment in opposition 
to thy wisdom." 



63 



LETTER XIL 

1 WAS told that Cariovaldas expressed some sa- 
tisfaction on hearing the subject with which Phi- 
locles entertained his disciples. I took this op- 
portunity of observing to him, that his fears 
might probably be groundless, and that Philocles 
would perhaps find the way of rendering virtue 
amiable, and pleasure instructive. • 

" Tell me/' said he, " whether you informed 
him of my disapprobation ; I can make no an- 
swer to your remark till you have satisfied my 
curiosity in that respect." 

I replied, that on the sanje e^^ening in which 
he mentioned to me his apprehensions, I had 
warned the Grecian to be more circumspect in 
his conduct. 

" I thought so," returned Cariovaldas, " his 
artifice is great, and his hypocrisy sufficient to 
deceive nations far more knowing than the Che- 
ruscans. The man who can employ the language 
of virtue in the cause of vice, is the most danger- 
ous of beings. Marcus, he is not worthy of your 



64 

friendship ; even you he endeavours to seduce in 
the only way hy which he can hope to prevail 
on the steadiness of your temper; think what 
must he the fate of the wretched victim who 
has innocently hecome the minister of his de- 
signs. I wai» the friend of Bertha's father, and 
though her uncle, blinded by his veneration for 
sacerdotal influence, assists your Grecian in his 
unworthy plan, do not imagine I will suffer this 
maid to be sacrificed, or you to bring on yourself 
eternal remorse. Had you been less attached to 
the chimerical idea of rejoining your legions, 
and returning to Rome, of which, believe me, 
there is not the smallest probability, I woukl 
have adopted you for my son, and made you the 
brother of Sigismar. I would have given you 
possessions sufficient for your subsistence, and 
would have obtained Bertha for your wife ; but 
you rather choose to consider yourself as our 
enemy, and I cannot force on you benefits 
which you refuse to accept,'* 

I was affected, Septimius, with the generosity 
of the chief, and could not forbear expressing- 
my gratitude; but at the same time Assured him 
it was not possible that I could relinquish the 
hope of one day returning to my duty, and 



66 

qyetiding the remainder of my life in the service 
of my country. 

« Your'life is but commenced/* replied Cario- 
valda^y ^' and you have to choose between many* 
years of discontent^ of vain hopes and fruitless 
wishes, and a series of calm and tranquil enjoy- 
ments amidst friends, who, if they have not the 
elegance and instruction of your countrymen, 
possess greater sincerity and truth. We cannot 
boast of the Alban or Falemian grape, but our 
beverage is unmixed with poison : if my reflec- 
tions give you pain I wiU not repeat them ; only 
I conjure you to beware of Philocles. 1 do not 
insist on your avoiding his society ; but by re- 
marking his behaviour, you wiU be convinced 
that I'do not wrong him*, and will one day return 
me thanks, or honour my memory, for having 
saved you from ruin and disgrace.*' 

What will you say, Septimius, when I tell you 
that your friend, after hearing these words, and 
being deeply impressed with a sense of their 
truth, after having formed a resolution never more 
to place confidence in Riilocles, and, if possible, 
to avoid -speaking to Bertha, since neither my 
duty nor my honour would allow me to accept 
the proposal of Cariovaldas, or second the de- 
igns of Fhilodes ; what will you say when you 
Vol. I. F 



66 

tre informed, that, without knowing the true 
sentiments of my heart, without, daring to re- 
flect on what may he the consequence of my 
conduct, I have fallen into the very errors against 
which Cariovaldas had warned me ? 

I had scarcely left him, when wandering into 
the woods without any other design than that of 
diverting my thoughts from the painful images 
on which they dwelt, I chanced to cast my eyes 
on a large oak, the hark of which seemed to 
bear the impression of Roman characters.- On a 
nearer approach I found, to my great surprise, 
my name carved on the surface, and for a 
moment felt sensations scarcely possible to be 
described. I flattered myself that gne of my 
countrymen was near ; I looked round with 
anxious hope— rail was solitude and silence : I 
could not prevail on myself to leave the wood, 
still waiting in the expectation that I should meet 
some lopg-lost friend, when, on a sudden, a per- 
son advanced through a winding path that kd 
to the place where I stood, but on seeing me 
fled with amazing precipitation. My curiosi- 

• 

ty prompted me to follow with equal rapidity, 
till a rivulet intercepting the flight of the object I 
pursued, I found, not without asto^iiishment, that 
it was Bertha^ whose confusion was so great,: thai 



67 

it gave me the strongest suspicions of her being 
thie unknown writer. However I had sufficient 
command over myself not to put a question to her 
which must have increased her embarrassment 
and distress : she endeavoured to recover her 
spirits^ and having a spear in her hand> told me 
die came into the wood with an intention of hunt- 
ing. There was no way of extricating ourselves 
from the labyrinth into which her flight had led 
VIS, but by returning through the same mazes we 
had already traced^ which naturally brought us 
to the oak, where her blushes plainly discovered 
that my suspicions had not beep ill founded. 
Here we were met by Philocles, who having less 
delicacy than myself, and perceiving at the same 
instant the writing and the confusion of Bertha, 
induced heh notwithstanding all my endeavours 
to the contrary, to confess that she had made 
this use of his instructions in that dangerous art 
of which the Cheruscans are in general ignorant. 
If, since this adventure, I have not kept my re- 
solution of avoiding the lovely Bertha, I hope Sep- 
timius will pardon my weakness, or at least con- 
sider the circumstances that may be pleaded in 
extenuation of it. Y^t I cannot wholly excuse 
myself. The virtue and reserve of Bertha are 
equal to her ingenuous candour; she flatters her- 



6s 

sdf with the hope Ami I shall reUnquish all ideas 
of returning to my couotrj^ and choose Iter to 
he the partner of my retreat In vmin ha«w I en- 
deavoured to undeceive her; for while she sees 
Uiat I pass my hours with pleasure in her cofea-: 
pany, she has no conception of the di&rent pas- 
sions that agitate my mind; and unless I -obtain 
some naeans of leaving this part of the country, I 
can neither free her from sentiments, which must 
only «id in her unhappiness, nor myself from 
die attractive power which constantly leads me 
towards her. 

Cariovaldas treats me with unusual rigour: I 
dare not enter into an explanation with him« 
though perhaps I could in some measure dear aiy 
innocence, but, alas! it must foe at the e>^>ence 
of Bertha. Philc>cles seems to pity my situation, 
suid counsels me to hope that time will a£R>rd 
some expedient to extricate me froin this state 
of perplexity; but are his counsels disinterested ? 



69 



LETTER XHL 

Jl HILOCLES continues to instruct his pupils 
in such a manner as apparently to obviate every 
objection of Cariovaldas; he endeavours to in- 
spire them with a hberality of sentiment^ which 
seems calculated to raise them from the state of 
servile subjection to which they are condemned 
by their monarcfas and their priests^ and to ele- 
vate them to the dignity of thinking beings. I 
was at first rather disgusted at his compliance 
with their superstitioys ceremonies; but it ap- 
pears that he on\j lent himself to them for a while, 
that he might more effectually gain the confidence 
of the people, and seize an opportunity of enlight- 
ening their minds and giving them more rational 
notions. Notwithstanding the progress of his 
philosophy amongst them, he has not lost the 
affection of the priests : they warmly support his 
cause against Cariovaldas, who does not cease to 
demand his expulsion. As to myself, I seem 
|iow rather to excite the pity than the anger of the 
chief: he has had a conversation with Bertha, 



/ 



70 



who ingenuously confessed to him the event which 
I related m my last letter : my perplexity is 
greater than ever, and each day adds new strength 
to a chain which I have neither courage to break, 
nor inclination to bear. In the mean time I dare 
not trust myself to my own thoughts^ but am con- 
strained to seek that resource which I never fail to 
find in the society of Philocles. He is now employ- 
ed in setting before his auditory the most charac« 
teristic parts of the annals of Greece : they listen 
to them with avidity, and the love of independency 
has taken strong possession of their minds. He 
relates to them the successful struggles of the 
Athenian people in the cause of freedom^ the his- 
tory of Harmodius and Aristogiton, the overthrow 
of the thirty tyrants, and the death of Agis and 
Cleomenes, with various other events of the like 
nature. 



71 



LETTER XIV. 

JVIUCH time has elapsed, my dear Septimius, 
since I have been able sufficiently to collect my 
ideas to communicate them to you. Doubt, anx- 
iety, and weariness, by turns have taken pos&ession 
of my mind, and deprived me of all consolation. 
My situation becomes daily more wretched, sur- 
rounded on every side with snares or misfortunes 
from which I see no hopes of extricating myself 
What means this inactivity in our armies ? Is 
it possible that the Roman people can be so dege- 
nerate as to leave unrevenged their own honoun 
and the manes of three legions, once the flower 
and pride of Rome ; three legions which, even 
in their fall, were not unworthy the esteem of 
their country ? It is true, that the place which I 
am condemned to inhabit is remote from the 
usual station of our troops; but should they not 
have made their way into the darkest recesses of 
these hostile regions, and forced our enemies to 
repent their perfidious triumph? I am told our 
arms are respected in some of the German pro- 



vinces; that Tiberius acts with prudence^ and 
maintains the strictest discipline; that he has 
even gained some inconsiderable advantages ; bat 
should not his avenging arm have dragged to the 
feet of Jupiter Capitolimis the bsffbarous nations 
who have dared to insult the Roman name r 

I know Tiberius well : he fears censure moi^e 
than he loves renown ; he wishes only to preserve 
his interest with Augustus, and will not endanger, 
by an heroic daring, the reputation he has ac- 
quired of an able general, nor will he risk his 
private fortunes to save the honour of his country- 
He is circumspect lest he should 'share the re- 
proaches which have undoubtedly been cast on 
the unhappy Varus 'y and yet it is said, that while 
our army was condemned to disgrace and de- 
struction, the fortunate Tiberius* reduced all H- 
tyria to obedience, and received the applauses of 
Rome, applauses which our shame must have re- 
doubled. O Septimius ! my friend, the companion 
of my happier days, I envy not thy fame — ^1 re- 
joice in thy victories — but shall the enemy of Va- 
\ lerius triumph, shall the ruin of our army add 

laurels to his brows ? fiave I only hved to contri- 
bute to his glory ? No, Septimius, I have no 

* See tiie life of that empefor. 



75 

hopes of redress^ (tf die return of felicity fromsdck 
an avenger: I acknowledge bis talents, but I 
abbor his principles. 

Wbidier am I burried by my passions ^ My 
dear Septimius^ I have casually heard these cir- 
cumstances^ but I cannot obtain any certain in<- 
formation of tbeir trutb. Cariovaldas has strictly 
forbidden all mention of public afiairs in my 
presence ; since my last letter be has been abse^ 
several months^ and is but lately returned* He 
offered me to accompany bim^ but bow could 1 
act the part of a robber and assassin ? He departed 
to make an inroad on a neighbouring frontier. 
^ybat interest have I in their quarrds^ The 
sword which is not drawn in the service of our 
country deserves not to be crowned with success ; 
yet would you believe it, my friend ? so difficult 
is it to retain a purity of sentiment when op* 
pressed with adversity, that I could scarcely 
without reluctance, refuse to attend him. The 
love of action, the desire of leaving Bertha, the 
hope of death, strongly incited me to accept his 
proposal, but one serious reflection brought me 
to myself, and the voice of honour was obeyed. 
I remained here, and have been miserable ; so- 
litude is now my only consolation. I pass my 
days in contemplation of the wintry torrents that. 



74 

rolling down the bleak and barren mountains^ 
root up in their course the lofty fir and venerable 
oak. Twice have I saved the lives of the wretch- 
ed inhabitants, whose huts were carried away 
by the stream : these are the only mconents of 
happiness I have experienced. 

The suspicions of Gariovaldas against Philocles 
are, I am convinced, too true ; in my last letter 
are some expressions which may lead you to think 
I was deceived in his intentions. I confess that 
an appearance of virtue and liberality of senti- 
ment had seduced me, but I am now ashamed of 
my blindness, and of the regard I once enter- 
tained for 80 unworthy a being. 



75 



LETTER XV. 

Overwhelmed with despair, and hope- 
less that my letteirs would ever reach you, I had 
given up the consolatory employment of writing. 
I scarcely know how I have passed the tedious 
months and seasons that have revolved since I last 
addressed you. At length I am informed of 
what has happened at Rome whilst I have been 
detained in this unhappy country. 

Like a man long confined in a subterraneous 
cavern, whose eyes cannot bear the splendour of 
the rays which accidentally break in upon his 
sohtude, I am confused and overpowered by the 
relation of so many and such important events, 
as are at once presented to my imagination ! In 
the midst of the various ideas which agitate my 
mind, a gleam of hope appears for the first time 
to cheer my sorrows, and if I dare not flatter 
myself with ah immediate return to the legions, 
at least I have reason to suppose that I shall not 
wear out my life in captive inaction. r 

A few nights since, on my return from a long 



76 

and fatiguing chace> I found Cariovaldas en- 
gaged in conversation with a young man, whose 
countenance pleased and interested me, as soon as 
they perceived me, he arose, and Cariovaldas tel- 
Ung him I was the Roman who h^d so long heen 
an inhabitant of their countiy, he flew to embrace 
me and offered me his friendship in the warmest 
and most affectionate terms. The feeling widi 
which he expressed himself affected me greatly : 
while he spoke I observed that his eyes were moist- 
ened with tears. I could no longer retain mine« 
and, for the first time, Septimius, since I have 
been toni from aU that is dear to me, and ccm* 
demned to misery and afBiction, I fdt the con* 
•olation of this tender efiusion : I soon recdi- 
kcted myself, and endeavoured to hide my weak- 
ness ftcmi Cariovaldas. 

" Marcus P' said he, ^ you have now a friend; 
this young man is my son, die Sigismar whom yoiL 
have so often heard'me maition> and who, though 
he has hurled destruction amongst your l^ons^ 
ift more deserving of your regard and confidence 
than the traitorous Greek who has no afiection 
bat what is centered in himself. The business on 
which his leader has sent him is of too public a 
nature to be concealed from you ; he wiE disdoae 
the occurrences which ba^e happened in your 



77 

country since yourabsence ; and if success attends 
our endeavours in the cause of Germany^ jbe may 
perhaps one 4lay restore you to your fboner 



connexions.^' 



You will more readily form an idea of my sen- 
sations than I can possibly describe them ; you 
will conceiyemy in4)atiencej and the various pas- 
sions which I felt whik Sigismar velated to me' 
the return of Tiberius'*^ to Rome, his triumph* 
his second journey towards Ulyria, whence he 
was recalled to take the reins of empire, resigned 
to him by the d^ing hands of Augustus ; and 
finally, his exaltation to those honour^ which 
even were they conferred on the moat virtuous 
and liiost heroic citizen of the republic, would 
become the seal of despotism and slavery. I 
know not whether we now deserve to be trusied 
wllii liberty, but surely weai*e not sufficiently de- 
generate to merit the government of Tiberius. 

What a mixture of satis£ELction and anxiety I 
experienced, when Sigismar informed me that 
the great, the amiable Gennanicus,t the only 

• Tacitus, Book 1. 

f Germanlcos Caesar inherited the Dame of Germanicai 
from his Either Dmsus, hrother of TiberiiUy received into 
tiie Caesar^iqgiifiuiiilyhy order of Aiigiutii9> vko, he&at 



78 

Worthy successor of Augustus and Julius, is now 
left with the command of the legions employed to 
repel the incursions of the Germans; that he is 
general of those troops whom I have so long 
Wished to join, and that they, insensible of their 
duty, have dared to make a pretence of the 
death of Augustus for committing the odious 
crime of rebellion, encouraged by the absence of 
their chief, who is collecting tribute in Gaul. 
Such is the information given me by the son of 
Cariovaldas, as received from Arminius, whose 
ambition and enmity to the Romans have been 
newly eitcited by the hopes of easily defeating se- 
ditious and undiscipUned troops, and who. has 
sent this young warrior to call the Cheruscans to 
aJrms. 

Sigismar has promised to intercede with Ar- 
minius for my restoration to the Romans ; the 
generous youth has a manly sensibility for my 
situation; and my gratitude, in return, inspires 
me with the most ardent wishes that he may one 
day cease to be our enemy. His attachment to 
his chief, and to his duty, makes him eagerly 

he wonld give Tiberius the title of his son, made him 
adopt Germanicns. His moAer was Antonia, daughter 
of Marc Antony, and of Octavia; sister of Augustus. 



79 

wish to inflame the Cheruscana with the rage of 
war> but they do not seem inclined to imbibe the 
sentiments of their leader^ though Philocles> not- 
withstanding his obligations to the Romans, his 
pretended friendship for the unhappy Varus, 
and the maxims he has constantly supported by 
declaiming against war as the scoiurge of huma- 
nity, is now active in the cause of the embassy, 
andindulges himself in the most injurious expres- 
sions against our republic. His example has, 
however,' had greater influence than his exhortar 
tions; the people, immersed in the variety of 
pleasures which he has introduced, or promoted, 
preserve their accustomed barbarity, but have 
no longer the spirit of enterprize and patriotism, 
with which they were formerly animated. Their 
existence is not become . more valuable to them, 
but they have lost much of the firmness of cha- 
racter which led them to meet death without ter* 
ror: besides, though they continue scrupulously 
to observe the outward practices of devotion, and 
are as attentive as usual to omens and prognostics, 
they appear now. to entertain doubts of a future 
state, and these doubts, into which the sceptical 
discourses' of Philocles have thrown them, disturb 
instead of enlightening their minds. They have" 
neither the ca)m indifference of philosophers, nor 



m 

the resignation of men attocked to fkeir religion ; 
they dare not (^pose the dictates of their priests, 
but they ha¥e littk confidence in their wisdom ; 
dieypass their lives in pleasures which are^beeome 
more seducing as they are more refined. They 
are greater gamesters than ewer, because they 
have now been taught to speculate and make use 
.of ddvantages which were before unknown to 
tfaem. Their banquets are more frequent^ asthey 
have learned to render them more luxurious ; 
and their fair countarywomen having been in- 
structed to consider reserve as prejudice^ join in 
the general dissipation, and increase it by their 
presence. Robberies, which were before scarcely 
known, except when instigated by enmity, are 
now frequent, and avarice has increased in pro- 
portion with prodigality. 

Sigismar was astonished at the changes which 
he perceived in his countrymen, tiis' ftither, who 
justly attributes them to the arrival of the philo- 
sopher, uses every effort to stop the progress of 
eorruption, and rouse ^e nation from the )e« 
Aargy into which it has fallen. 



Si 



LETTER XVI. 

AcOUNCILhas been held to debate on the 
present affairs ; and the banquet^ which, as usual, 
preceded the deliberations, was a scene of out-, 
rage and confusion. It was agreed to furnish Ar- 
minius with supplies for his intended expedition, 
but the choice of jthe commander occasioned a 
violent contest. Cariovaldas, who from his age, 
his experience in war, his distinguished courage, 
and his known and acknowledged superiority of 
abilities, has long enjoyed the honour of leading 
his fellow citizens to battle, was opposed by a 
young man, named Morven, whose insolence and 
inexperience had no other support than the pro- 
tection of Norbert, and some of the inferior 
priests, joined to a few factious chiefs, whose 
youth and want of judgment have suffered them 
to fall into the snares of the enemies of Cario- 
valdas. The dispute ran high, and swords were 
jdrawn on both sides : much blood was spilth and 
one of the -intimate friends of Cariovaldas being 
Vol. I. c 



82 

killed^ the contrary party acquired by his death 
an evident superiority, and Morven was elected, 
notwithstanding the remonstrances of the wiser 
part of the assembly. Sigismar, by his station 
about the person of Arminius, is excluded from 
these councils ; he therefore was not present, but 
waited with the greatest anxiety for the event^ 
when his father appeared, and with tears of in- 
dignation related what had passed. I cannot ex- 
press to you the pain I felt on seeing the ve- 
-nerable warrior tear his white locks, throw him- 
self on the ground, and in all the agony of de- 
spair, alternately bewailing the death of his 
friend, and the affront offered to his age and re- 
putation. Though an enemy, and not an incon- 
siderable one of the Romans, his sufferings, and 
the injustice done him, afflicted me greatly. I 
thank heaven we can subdue our foes without 
wishing they should be humbled by intestine dis- 
cord : our republic disdains an easy and inglo- 
rious conquest, nor would we willingly owe any 
thing to the evils of perfidy and sedition among 
themselves. 

Morven is the intimate companion and disci- 
ple of Philocles : he has imbibed his maxims, 
and though his talents are not shining, he has 
made a party amongst the Cheruscans by declaim- 



83 

ing against slavery ; supporting those whom their 
crimes have made liable to punishment^ and pre* 
tending to reform abuses which wiere either unfelt, 
or never existed. 

Sigismar, indignant at the wrongs his father 
had suffered^ proposed an appeal to Arminius 
against the election of Morven ; but as the prin- 
cipal inhabitants of each district have the privi- 
lege of choosing an officer to command them^ 
Cariovaldas is not sufficiently transported with 
anger, and the desire of revenge, to hazard the 
liberty of his country by an application to so 
potent a leader. 

*' Arminius/' said he, " is a great and popu- 
lar commander : his power could redress the in- 
jury that has been done me : but might not some 
future chief, less just, and less wise than Ar- 
minius, make use of this example to break the 
decrees of a free and lawful assembly? No, I 
will leave this ungrateful valley — I will retire to 
the states of Manfred, and serve under him as a 
private soldier. Amidst the Roman legions I 
shall find some charitable hand that will put an 
end to the disgrace of ^an unfortunate old man, 
who, after a life of distinction, has no other 
hopes left, than to perish confounded with the 
multitude." 



84 

Sigismar is inconsolable : I dare not leave hint 
for an instant ; his sensibility exceeds my powers 
of description^ and the honourable sentiments^ 
which every moment disclose themselves more 
and more to my admiration, endear him to me 
with no common affection. 

The venerable Cariovaldas, in the intervals of 
grief and resentment, testifies the greatest esteem 
and gratitude for the part I am acting. What 
must I be, were I insensible to their virtue^, and 
to their unmerited afflictions? 



85 



LETTER XVIL 

1 HE complicated , malice of mankind could 
never have invented any thing more dreadful 
than what is now to be my lot. O Septimius ! 
happiness flies far from your friend — he will not 
be permitted even to die with innocence — ^with 
content — ^his honour forbids him to listen to the 
voice of gratitude, of affection, or of justice : let 
him perish — ^let his name be for ever erased from 
the annals of humanity — ^let Valerius forget ^that 
his beloved sister had a son who respected him as 
a father — ^let Septimius drive from his memory 
all thoughts of his unfortunate friend, and let 
Aurelia forgive that Marcus ever dared — still dares 
to loVe her, 

I have scarcely power to inform you of the 
horrors with which I am encompassed; but, 
whatever is my fate, I wish you one day to re- 
ceive my justification-r-read it — absolve me, and 
then draw a veil over my wretched history. 

While I was- endeavouring to console the 



86 

unhappy Sigismar> while I was assuring him of 
my inviolable regard, and of the esteem with 
which his filial virtue, his attachment to his com- 
mander, his feeling mind> and the gentleness of 
his manners inspired me, a deputation arrived 
from the sacred wood, commanding Cariovaldas 
and his son to attend at the customary sacrifice 
to be performed in consequence of the delibera- 
tions of the council. They were long absent, 
and returned with all the marks of horror in their 
countenance ; they sat down without uttering a 
word ; Cariovaldas covered his face with his 
mantle ; Sigismar looked on me, and burst into 
tears, while in vain I conjured them to explain 
to me the cause of this increase of sorrow. The 
chief remained silent; thrice his son attempted 
to speak, but his tongue faltered, and refused to 
disclose the fatal mystery. We remained more 
than an hour in this melancholy situation ; the 
demonstrations of affection and compassion 
which their grief drew from me seemed to en- 
crease its force ; at length Sigismar tore himself 
violently from my arms, and left me alone with 
his father. Cariovaldas then uncovered his face, 
and I perceived with astonishment that he had 
been in tears. He looked at me with unspeak- 
able tenderness, and, taking my hand, "Marcus/* 



87 

«aid he, " we are stiled barbarians, but we never 
justly deserved that appellation till now. There 
exists among us an ancient custom, that, when- 
ever we are doubtful of the event of a war, after 
having by various means, in vain, attempted to 
learn otir future success, the last* and decisive 
trial consists in obliging one of our own nation 
to fight against a prisoner from the' country 
which we are about to attack. The combat must 
last till one is slain ; should it happen to be the 
Cheruscan we desist from all thoughts of war, 
but if otherwise, we consider the omen in our 
favour. This trial has never been made but in 
the last extremities, and the priests, who are the 
ordainers and directors of this superstitious prac- 
tice, have always chosen their victims out of the 
lowest classes, both of the prisoners and of our 
people. Judge of my astonishment when, 
after this morning sacrifice was perform- 
ed, I heard from the mouth of Norbert ihe 
dreadful . sentence pronounced against my son, 
and the friend, the companion who has so long 
inhabited this dwelling, whom I always regarded 
as my adoptive child, as the brother of him who is 
now to be his murderer, or receive death from 

* Tacitus de mor. Germ. 



88 

his hand. In vain have I remonstrated againsi 
the injustice of the proceeding; in vain have I 
told them that you cannot be considered as a 
prisoner ; in vain have I called the Gods to wit- 
ness against the ignominy to which their minis- 
ters condemn my Sigismar, whose birth and rank 
should set him far above these sanguinary rites* 
Their minds are corrupted/ justice is driven from 
their thoughts^ and the nation is on their side. 
Heaven knows I have always opposed this bar- 
barous custom, and while I had any influence 
here it was not put in practice. This day I have 
had recourse to threats and supplications, but 
finding all in vain, I conjured them to change 
the combatants, and to let the, contest take place 
between some Roman prisoner whom we could 
obtain from the neighbouring chiefs, and one of 
the meanest of our troops ; but their hatred to 
me and my family is too evident ; they have 
sworn oui* destruction', and you, unhappy Mar- 
cus ! are involved in our ruin. Your age, and 
that of my son, are nearly the same ; your arms 
are to be equal : I know your valour, and per- 
haps to-morrow I shall be no more a father; yet, 
if Sigismar is victorious, I shall never be happy, 
and his days will be poisoned with perpetual re- 
morse. He has conceived the firmest friendship 



S9 

for you, and the tender share you have, taken in 
our distress has endeared you to us more than 
ever/* 

I remained motionless on hearing the speech 

of Cariovaldas : I was struck with horror, and 

the first thought that presented itself to my mind 

was that of putting an end, to my existence, lest I 

should deprive Cariovaldas of his son, and plunge 

my sword into the bosom of my friend ; but this 

thought was soon combated by that contempt I 

have ever had for yielding to despair. My next 

suggestion was to meet Sigismar in arms, and 

give myself up a willing victim to his hand: but 

reflection soon told me this was' only another 

species of self-destruction, rendered still more 

culpable by making my friend the dispenser of 

my death, and by relinquishing the cause of 

honour and my country. How dreadful soever 

was the idea of entering into a single combat 

with the man whom I esteemed and loved, with 

the son of my protector, I was still to consider 

myself as the champion of my country, and to 

do my duty with the same ardour as if I was 

fighting in presence of her legions, by the side 

of her general, and beneath the wing of her 

victorious eagles. These last reflections roused 

me from the torpid state into which I was plung- 



90 

ed : I communicated all my thoughts to Cario- 
valdas, and he embraced me with paternal ten- 
derness. 

*' O Marcus!'* said the venerable warrior, 
'' why are we enemies of the Romans ? why does 
the ambition of your nation, and the headstrong 
ferocity of ours involve us in these nuseries ? or 
rather, why has the refined cruelty of Philocles 
added barbarity to our sanguinary decrees ? 
Nothing but his instigation could have so far 
misled our priests. Alas ! unfortunate youth ! 
you will never more behold your friends or coun- 
try ! should you deprive me of my child, my 
forgiveness cannot avail you: the rising moon 
will behold your blood streaming on the altar of 
Odin ; your death is decreed, that of Sigismar is 
almost equally certain;- for should he remain 
conqueror, I know his sensibility ; he could not 
survive the dreadful idea of having been the 
murderer of his friend.'* 

Cariovaldas lefl me after having given. me this 
information : the latter part of his discourse has 
been some consolation to my mind. I shall not 
long feel the remorse that tears my bosom: I 
know that I shall do my duty ; and trust that I 
shall imprint on these barbarians a respect for 
the Roman name, that if heaven should grant me 



91 

the fatal honour of asserting my country^s cause 
by the death of my friend, I may afterwards by 
tbe firmness with which I sustain all the torments 
Ibey inflict on me, by the constancy with which 
I meet my death, inspire them with such fear 
and reverence, that like P(»^nna they may ac- 
knowledge their error, and avoid for the future 
the unequal contest between ferocity and va- 
lour. 



92 



LETTER XVm. 

1 WAS perfectly calm, Septimius, when I yes- 
terday finished my letter : I am still determined 
to do my duty, and you will not suspect me of 
meeting my fate in a manner unbecoming a Ro- 
man. But the unhappy Sigismar has affected 
me greatly ; the friendship he has expressed for 
me, the hopes he entertained of restoring me to 
my country, the heartfelt sorrow he has testified 
in seeing himself constrained to aim his weapon 
at my breast, all awaken my gratitude and un- 
nerve the arm that should be raised against him. 
The whole night has been spent in mutual de- 
monstrations of sorrow and affection : I now per- 
ceive the east reddening with the approaching 
morning : as soon as the sun appears we must 
enter the consecrated wood, and there complete 
the fatal sacrifice. As my death is certain, and 
as Sigismar may fall a victim to the genius of 
Rome, I have requested Cariovaldas to termi- 
nate the history of this day, and find means of 
conveying it to you with the letters I have written 



93 

since the night of Teutohurgium. Perhaps it 
would have been kinder not to renew your grief 
by the detail of sufferings from which you have 
long imagined that fate had delivered me ; but> 
while I live, my greatest happiness consists in 
conversing with Septimius, and in giving him the 
last and sincerest proof of my esteem by leaving 
. him depositary of my fame. 

Should the Roman legions ever discover the 
place of my death, let them not think of private 
revenge ; the greater number of the Cheruscans 
are innocent, and when the successful arms of 
our republic have defeated them in just and ho- 
nourable battle, let it be forgotten that a Roman 
expired amongst them : our clemency will teach 
them gentler manners, and our laws will instruct 
and humanise them. Farewell, Septimius [ 



94 



LETTER XIX. 

Again, Septlmius, your friend addresses 
you; again he has been snatched from death, 
and from the fatal necessity of destroying the 
son of his preserver; but this exemption has 
been dearly bought, and never will the day re- 
turn to my imagination without exciting iu me 
the most poignant regret. 

Scarcely had I finished what I thought would 
be the last testimony of my regard for Septimius, 
when a long procession of youths and virgins ap- 
peared, headed by the bards signing the praises 
of Cberuscan bravery, and supplicating the gods 
to grant them victory over the Romans. Iliese 
were followed by many of the inferior priests^ 
who are always armed, and compose the guard 
of Norbert and his companions of the higher 
order. 

Sigismar long refused to accompany them : he 
conjured the priests to listen to his remonstran- 
ces, he addressed the people, but all wsfs in vain ; 



95 

the whole assembly remained motionless^ and thd 
priests reiterated the commands of Norbert. 

I endeavoured to compose the generous youth ; 
I observed to him that our trial would be shorty 
that a few hours would restore me to my long 
wished freedom^ and that whatever was his fate 
he must remember that we had both obeyed the 
voice of honour and of our country. 

Cariovaldas embraced us without speaking; 
he seemed calmer than he had been for several 
days: I again expressed my gratitude for the 
kindn'ess with which he had treated me, during 
the time I had lived beneath his roof, and again 
recommended to him the care of informing Sep- 
timius of the events of the day. 
' We arrived at the sacred wood; it was the first 
time I had entered it, and I was greatly agitated 
to perceive many, of the trees decked with Roman 
shields and ensigns : the sight awakened my in- 
dignation, and I forgot for a moment every other 
consideration, but that of revenging the honour 
of my country. A vast multitude of people fol- 
lowed us into the wood, all without arms, and to 
my great surprise, each man as he approached 
the consecrated spot, suffered his hands to be 
bound by some of the assistant priests ; this, I was 
informed, is the usual custom, and originates 



96 

from the belief that they are in this place no 
longer masters of themselves, but under the im- 
mediate influence of the Divinity. The priests 
alone have their hands at liberty. 

A milk white horse was next brought forth, and 
after the bards had chanted the praises of the God 
of battle, he was sacrificed on the altar of that 
deity. 

Norbert, and his chief companions then took 
branches of oak, and dipping them in the stream 
that passes near the altar of Odin, sprinkled water 
on the armour of Sigismar: they delivered into 
our hands two swords of equal length, and bound 
on our left arms a shield painted with various co- 
lours. As soon as we were armed, the signal was 
given for the attack, when Sigismar looking stead- 
fastly on me, exclaimed. " Marcus ! forgive me, 
and be assured I will not survive you." He then 
prepared with intrepidity for the combat, the 
priests encouraging and commanding him to 
contemplate the trophies of the Romans which 
his countrymen had suspended in the consecrat- 
ed grove. This exhortation, I perceived, startled 
him, and instead of beginning the onset, he ran 
to the opposite tree : I turned round to observe, 
and beheld him gazing with fixed attention, on 
a helmet which I soon knew to be' the same I had 



97 

rn when conducted from Teutoburgium by 
^^^riovaldas. A golden wolf with Romulus and 
mtis, of remarkable workmanships which^ as 
u well remember^ ornament the crests made it 
^^^^iQpassible to be mistaken. 

" Sigismar/' said I, " do not consider that 
^met as a monument of my shame ; you know 
naeant not to survive the destruction of our 
and would to heaven it could be buried 
"^^V'ith me in the grave, that no doubt might re- 
ain of my conduct; but yet, I trust, my 
^DUtttrymen will not suspect the virtue of Mar- 

'* Is this your helmet?'* exclaimed Sigismar, 

ith great emotion, '* my friend ! my preser- 

cr ! never let this weapon be raised against the 

of that armour ;" at the same time he threw 

is sword far from him, and continuing his dis- 

ourse ; " Do you remember,'* cried he " a few 

before the battle of Teutoburgium, you cbm- 

^rrnanded a party of horse that was sent to protect 

^^your foragers ? The inhabitants of the country, 

"^jvbo had long complained of these grievances, de- 

. :^-nanded assistance to oppose you : a skirmish en- 

d, in which the Germans, though superior in 

umber, were defeated. The combat lasted two 

ours ; during that time many of our people were 

Vol. I. H 



98 

killed^ others fled, and left their commander ex- 
posed to the fury of the Romans : he defended him 
self long, and declared he would not become your 
prisoner; you were pleased with his conduct, and 
nobly gave him his life. That commander was Si- 
gismar ; he preserved the remembrs^nce of your 
generosity, and lamented that his leader from your 
ally became your enemy ; he knows by the helmet, 
which you then wore, that it was Marcus to whom 
he o\Ves the air he breathes, the honour he has 
since acquired. O Marcus ! not Arminius him- 
self could compel me to lift my arm against you. 
But Arminius is too just ; he will revenge our cause ; 
he will not suffer these lawless, these sanguinary 
wretches to triumph in their cruelty." 

The chief priests took up the sword which Si- 
gismar had flung on the ground : they command- 
ed their inferior ministers to bind us to the altar ; 
and, declaring that the rites were polluted, and that 
death alone could expiate our crimes, gave orders 
for the execution of their summary decree. 

At that moment a noise was heard, which in- 
creasing by degrees threw Norbert and his com- 
panions into evident consternation : in a few mi- 
nutes we saw Cariovaldas approach, accompanied 
by two or three of the principal chiefs, and a 
considerable number of people in arms. 



99 

He advanced miyestically towards Norbert> 
seemed astonished at seeing us bound to the altar^ 
aiid threatened him with immediate destruction 
if he did not instantly set us at Uberty. . The 
priests who surrounded Norbert were greatly 
alarmed^ aiid even Norbert at first turned pale 
with terror; but in a moment recollecting him- 
self^ and appealing with enthusiasm to the people 
who accompanied Cariovaldas^ he enjoined them, 
in the name of Odin, to throw down their wea- 
pons and obey his ministers. A general panic 
seiized the assembly; the people obeyed, and 
some of the inferior priests, to whom Norbert 
had previously given the order to surround Cario* 
valdas, appeared, from amidst the trees, and 
coming behind the venerable chief, who stood 
undismayed beside his timid attendants, struck 
several of their lances into him : he fell, calling 
on the other chiefs to defend his son and Marcus. 
The horror of Sigismar at this event gave him 
strength that seemed more than mortal : he burst 
asunder the bands that restrained him, and 
taking up the first sword he found, flew to the de- 
fence of his dying father. I, too, with difficulty re- 
covered my liberty, and ran to the assistance- of 
my friend. The action appeared so atrocious to 
the chiefs who stood near Cariovaldas, that they 

h2 



100 

exhorted every one to revenge his death. All wa« 
confusion and dismay, till at length Norbert, 
with many of his accomplices fell victims to the 
just resentment of the populace. We carried 
the expiring Cariovaldas to his habitation^ where 
the tears, exclamations, and outcries of Vercen« 
nis increased the horror of the scene. 

The chief, calm and resigned, looked on Sigis-t 
mar and me with infinite affection : " My chil- 
dren,'' said he, " I die contented ; I have saved 
you, when I almost despaired of effecting it: 
with difl&culty, and with reiterated entreaties, 
till I feared it was too late^ I prevailed on a few 
friends to accompany me to the wood. You have 
seen how they abandoned my cause ; but heaven 
has interposed, and you are free. I have no fear 
that this action will be imputed to me as sacrile*- 
gious ; the Divinity cannot protect cruelty and 
injustice : but had I been manfully seconded, no 
blood would have been spilt. I am sorry for the 
death of Norbert and his deluded companions. — 
My children ! your duty calls you separately to 
defend the cause of your country, but you wiU 
ever be friends; and may that eternal Provi- 
dence, which equally watches over the Romans 
and the Germans, estabUsh peace and harmony 
between them */' 



101 

He had not strength to say more> and soon 
after expired with an Intrepidity worthy of his 
character. 

Sigismar is so absorhed by sorrow, that he has 
neither power to act nor think, and I fear his 
grief will put an end to his existence. The tu- 
mult still continues, and the surviving priests 
have either taken refuge in subterraneous caverns 
or filed to distant forests. I can write no more« 
as every moment may be the last of Sigismar. 



102 




LETTER XX. 

A VIOLENT fever succeeded the agitation of 
mind into which the various occurrences that 
preceded and accompanied the death* of Cario- 
valdas plunged his unhappy son. He loved his 
father with unspeakable tenderness and venera- 
tion; and the impression which his assassination 
lefl on him> had made him nearly a partaker of 
his fate. He is now in some measure recoverec 
by the unremitting care of Vercennis; and I 
have done every thing in my power, by m;- 
attendance and consolation, to recall him f'^ ^'^^ 
and tranquillity. 

The people, after the first vehemence of the 
tumult had subsided, were in the greatest — 

stemation at these events. They reproai 

themselves with having violated the sacred »"^'--' 
and proceeded to search all the neighbour] _ 
vems for the priests who were escaped, in <. 
to reinstate them in their dignity, and obtain 
pardon for themselves. Philocles, who had not 



103 

shewn himself during the day appointed for our 
combat^ became afterwards pecuUarly active in 
persuading the people to shake off the yoke of servi- 
tude ; by representing to them the state of freedom 
which they might obtain, since fate had dehvered 
them from the authority of their most powerful 
chief, and at the same time released them from 
sacerdotal tyranny. He advised them to assert 
their independency, and take advantage of the 
important avocations in which Arniinius and 
Segestes were engaged, to maintain themselves 
in a situation which would soon render then^ 
superior to all the attempts of despotism. They 
have adopted his council with avidity, have 
iriven away the few chiefs who > would not 
consent to their determination in favour of uni- 
rersal equality, and have taken possession of 
ijieir effects. Philocles is the lawgiver; and 
while he preaches liberty in their assemblies, he 
— *oys. the exclusive advantages of absolute and 
imited command. 

^ismar, without assistance, and scarcely 

d from impending death, has no power of 

ping the progress of the rebellion: his 

elity to Arminius adds affliction to his other 

misfortunes, and his state is truly deplorable. 

This morning he received a message from 



104 

his general ^ho informs him that the seditions* 
of the Roman army are appeased by the presence 
of their leader^ who has nobly refused the im- 
perial dignity^ which his soldiers desired to 
confer on him ; that our legions have marched 
into the enemy's country; that the Marsiansf 
are in arms^ and that Arminius has excited the 
the Chattians % to join them ; that he has sent 
.his wife Thusnelda|| to her father^ to persuade 
him to take an active part in the war^ but has 
no great hopes of her success, though the sub- 
jects of Segestes have entered warmly into his 
views, and may perhaps compel the monarch to 
concur with them. 

Arminius has commanded Sigismar to join 
him immediately with such troops as he may 
have been able to collect, and the unhappy 
youth makes the last efforts to engage his coun- 
trymen to grant the supplies they had promised; 
but to add to the reasons which already induce 
them to refuse their assistance, they have re- 

* Tacitus, Book 1. 

t Marsians, the people near Amersfort. Cluveriiis. 

i Cbattians, Hessians, &c. 

II The name of Urasnelda, wife of ArminiaSy men- 
tioned bv Strabo. 



105 

* ceived from otber districts so maity accounts of 
the fonnidable valour of Germanicus^ and of 
his repentant army^ that their minds are intimi- 
dated and the orders of Arminius neglected. The 
people are now more than ever convinced that 
their leader has little leisure to attend to their 
rebellion^ and the counsels of Philocles prevail 
without opposition. 

I am greatly afflicted to think of the baneful 
influence of this Grecian on the simple and un« 
informed minds of the Cheruscans. The pre- 
dictions of Cariovaldas huve been confirmed by 
his death ; and I cannot sufficiently express my 
veneration for his memory : his enlightened pa- 
triotism, his perspicacious and vigilant attention 
to every duty of a warrior and of a citizen, his 
unshaken justice and intrepid magnanimity are 
rarely met with, even in the most enlightened 
and civilized nations. The grief of Sigismar 
pierces me to the heart ; and the image of Va- 
lerius, ever present to my memory, particularly 
since I have heard the exaltation of Tiberius, 
torments me with doubts and alarms : perhaps, 
like Cariovaldas, he may have fallen a sacrifice 
to the treachery and hatred of a powerful ene 
my: how great is my impatience to rejoin our 
standards ! 



ii 



106 

Sigismar proposes to make a visit to' Manfred/ 
and has promised that I shall accompany him ; 
he flatters himself that he may obtain assistance 
from this friend of his father to restore tran- 
quillity and obedience amongst his countrymen^ 
and compel them to furnish the troops clemanded 
by Arminius. He hopes to engage his general 
to permit my departure ; but the uncertainty of 
these events overwhelms me with disquietude. 
Sigismar is at present too ill to attempt any 
thing, and his anxiety to acquit himself of his 
duty retards his recovery. 



107 



LETTER XXL 

1 HOUGH I have long had too much cause to 
suspect that the mischief done by Philocles was 
not unintentional^ I am, afflicted beyond expres- 
sion to find that he is the sole author of all that 
has happened. 

The gentle and amiably Bertha, whom I had 

scarcely seen since the arrival of Sigismar, has 

been^ to console Vercennis in the mid^t of he;* 

sorrows. She teUs me that Philocles was in 

council with the priests, in the consecrated wood, 

the night before the sacrifice, at which, the 

single combat between myself and Sigismar was 

to have taken place ; that he afterwards came to 

. her uncle, and that she was not permitted to be 

present at their conference ; that she was kept at 

■ home the following day, and remained totaUy 

ignorant of what passed at the sacred wood, till 

her uncle, at his return, informed her of the 

murder of Cariovaldas, and the cause whic^ 

brQi]^ht on that fatal event. Deeply affecte/i 

at the dreadful relation, she enquired into the 



108 

circumstances^ and found it was Philocles who 
had persuaded Norbert to demand the perform- 
ance of a rite authorized by their customs, and 
to name for the combatants the son of Carioval- 
das and myself. *•' If the combat should follow/' 
said he to the deluded Norbert, " and Marcus 
gains the victory, you will have nothing more to 
fear from the power of your chief when he has 
lost, by the death of his son, the influence he 
possesses over Arminius : if Sigismar has the ad- 
vantage, you will be freed from an enemy in the 
person of Marcus, and you will cast an indelible 
odium on the* house of Cariovaldas by compelling 
them to violate the duties of hospitality ; but if^ 
as is most probable, the haughty chief interposes^ 
and uses violence to annul your decrees, you 
have the fairest pretence to put an end to his 
usurpation, and assert the rights of your minis- 
try/* 

'' Such,** continued Bertha, *' was the advice 
of Philocles, and my uncle has since acknovf- 
ledged, that he had long perceived him exerting 
his endeavours to exasperate Norbert, and the 
other priests, against Cariovaldas ; that he was 
himself seduced by the apparent zeal of the Gre- 
cian against those whom he pointed out as ene- 
mies to the cause of religion, and that he really 



log 

supposed Cariovaldas to be such as he described 
him. The priests were therefore deceived, and 
their impious assassination has involved all our 
country in sacrilegious guilt/' 

This narrative of the lovely Bertha filled me 
Tvith commiseration for the Cheruscans, and I 
Ciease not to reproach myself for having been an 
^igent in fixing the treacherous Philocles, the 
xnurderer of my protector, amongst these unfor- 
tunate people. I was affected with the sensibiU- 
t:y shewn by Bertha, whenever she spoke of the 
danger to which I had been exposed, and though 
every reason forbids me to entertain a thought of 
forming a nearer connexion with this ingenuous 
and amiable maid, my esteem and gratitude can- 
not finish but with my life. 

Sigismar was charmed with her person and 
manners, and I observed that her presence was 
some alleviation to his woes ; but I am much 
alarmed for his health, his fever is returned with 
more violence than ever, in consequence of the 
arrival of another messenger from Arminius^ 
who^ relates that Segestes has sent ambassadors 
to Caesar, and amongst them his son, who for- 
merly was distinguished with the sacerdotal ho- 

* Tacitus, book !• 



no 

nours at the altar of the Ubians, but quitted the 
priesthood when the war broke out in Germany, 
and deserted to the rebels ; that our general has 
received him with clemency, and listened favor- 
ably to the embassy of Segestes, who entreats 
his aid to free him from the confinement in 
which he is detained by his subjects, and to pre- 
vent his being forced into a war against the Ro- 
mans ; he adds that Mattium"^ has been burned, 
and the Marsians defeated by Cseciha. 

Vercennis, on hearing this intelligence, ran 
into the public place, which was crowded with 
people, and, in the most passionate terms^ con- 
jured them to obey their leader, and assist the 
other Germans in freeing themselves from the 
Roman yoke ; and then, as if inspired by some 
superior power, she burst forth in the following 
exclamation : 

! *' I see, . I see the haughty masters of the 
south fall prostrate before the frozen nations of 
the pole ; their sumptuous palaces moulder into 
dust, their ruined temples, overgrown with moss, 
become the habitations of the scorpion and the 
serpent: their limbs have lost the accustomed 
vigour, and their hearts no longer gladden at the 

* Mattiom. Marpurg. 



Ill 

sound of the inspiring trumpet ; their mighty 
empire falls ; it falls into neglect and oblivion, 
while the valiant sons of Teuto,* extend their 
conquests with unbounded sway. The inhabi- 
tant of the soft and luxurious Hesperia yields the 
.imperial crown to the native of snowy regions : 
the bird of Jove now ministers to Odin ; and no 
longer quenches his thirst in the streams of 
Tyber, but dips his conquering wing in the 
Rhine and the Danube/' 

She continued long in this enthusiastic strain, 
which, however wild and absurd it may appear 
to you, Septimius> as it does to myself, yet gave 
me pain and anxiety. Our liberty, that was 
once supposed to be founded on the most solid 
basis, is indeed irrecoverably lost ; but our cou- 
rage still remains, and while that remains. Who 
can rob us of our empire ? How far degeneracy 
may spread what prophet can determine : I 
tremble at the very thought: Rome may fall — let 
heaven avert the omen ! the imperial honours 
may have their seat in Germany : but what arc 

* Tento, fonnder of the German empire ; the peo- 
ple from him called Teutonics. Odin, their principal 
Divinity, 



112 

imperial honours ? It is not the pomp of ma« 
jesty that constitutes the greatness of the Roman 
name : it is the uninterrupted succession of ages 
of virtue that has established our dominion^ and 
enlarged its limits. Should ever this great, this 
beauteous Colossus fall, a thousand petty king- 
doms may arise from its ruins, and each, as it 
enjoys a part of our dominions, may acquire a 
part of our glory. Some may arrogate our titles, 
but none will imitate our virtues, or attain our 
power ; unless, in future ages, the inhabitants of 
some island, blessed with a love of just and mi- 
tigated liberty, should form a government re- 
sembling ours in the happier times of our re- 
public, and with daring intrepidity, while they 
mamtain at home the sovereignty of the laws, 
extend their conquests over the sea, as we have 
subjected the land. Secure, by their courage 
and maritime situation, from jealous neighbours, 
or lawless invaders, they may perfect the great 
art of navigation, and their triumphant fleets 
may obtain equal honours ivith those of our im- 
mortal legions. 

Perhaps from this rhapsody you will think, my 
dear Septimius, that Vercennis has infected me 
with her prophetic spirit I omitted telling you. 



113 

that her remonstrances and exhortations were 
^ineffectual ; Philocles turned all she said into ri* 
dicule, and the inhabitants of this place abso* 
lutely refuse to assist their commander. 



Vol. 1. 



114 



LETTER XXII. 

A 

At length Sigismar is sufficiently, recovered to 
undertake his journey, and to-morrow we depart 
for the states of Manfred. My friend has past 
the greatest part of the evening over the grave of 
his father, and it was with difficulty I prevailed 
on him to leave the awful spot. Cariovaldas is 
buried in the sacred wood, near the place where 
he was so traitorously assassinated. Sigismar 
still supposes the priests to have been the sole au- 
thors, of his murder, and I dare not yet impart 
to him the information 1 received from Bertha : 
his just desire of revenging his father's death on 
the treacherous Philocles would expose him to 
certain destruction, at a time when this artful 
Greek is surrounded by a people devpted to his 
counsels. Sigismar shall be informed of the fatal 
secret when he is in safety^ under the protection 
of his father's friend. 

As I have reason to hope that my liberty' will 
be granted me, my heart is elated, and I feel 
sensations of joy that have long been strangers 



115 

to my bosom. I have revisited the hills whence 
I used to look round with despair to the horizon 
that reminded me of countries inaccessible to a 
wretched captive. I have returned to the vaUies 
where, on the banks of the frozen rividet, I 
often sat ibr hour^, immersed in solitary misery. 
The prosjpect is now cleared, and the only re- 
flection that clouds my present happiness is the 
thought of owing my liberty to the clemency of 
a man, who betrayed the confidence of the un- 
suspecting and unfortunate Varus, and whose 
implapable hatred is constantly employed in 
raising enemies against the Romans, to whom he 
was alUed by obligations and by treaties. 

I am concerned that Bertha should remain 
amidst her seditious countrymen; but her un- 
cle is still respected by the people, and the 
vengeance of Arminius will not be long de- 
layed. 

Sigismar wishes that his mother would ac^ 
company him to the dominions of Manfred, but 
she will not listen to his entreaties, and has com- 
plied with the request of Bertha, to accept of an 
asylum at her uncle's. I do not mean to bid 
adieu to this engaging maid, for I could not bear 
to be a witness of the tears with which I fear she 
will honour my departure. She merits the regard 



116 

of a man whose heart is free from other attach- 
ments; she deserves to be fortunate, and a- 
mongst the sufferings I have experienced^ du- 
ring my stay in this country, I have scarcely 
felt any more poignant than what are occasioned 
by the reflection that I have, though, uninten- 
tionally, disturbed that serenity which should 
^ver be the portion of beauty and innocence. 

The moon shines with unaccustomed bright- 
ness ; hope diffuses a charm over every object ; 
my shield, my helmet, and all the arms I wore 
on the field of Teutoburgium, are once more in 
my possession. The years of my captivity dis- 
appear from my remembrance ; but what may 
have happened to my friends during this interval 
of time? Oh how my heart will beat when I 
approach the Roman camp 1 Alas ! I am not 
yet allowed to turn my steps that way : mj 
imagination too eagerly anticipates what 1 hope ; 
and many circumstances may stiU occur, to 
prevent my expected felicity. 



1J7 



LETTER XXIII. 

We are arrived at the dwelling of Manfred, 
^ind Arminius is daily expected : a report pre- 
^^ails that Thusnelda, with her father, has been 
^^aken prisoner by the Komans ; and that Armi- 
^nius, piore than ever enraged, is coming in per- 
lon to excite the Cheruscans to arms. 

Manfred received Sigismar with kindness, and 
seemed greatly affected at the death of Car i oval- 
das. " That man,'' said he, pointing to the 
slave whom he had formerly received in ex- 
change for Philocles, '' has twice saved my life 
at the manifest hazard of his own ; once by ex- 
posing himself to the fury of a wild boar, that 
was near destroying me ; and a second time, by 
plunging into the rapid stream which you see 
before you, to snatch me from beneath its waves. 
Would to heaven that the Grecian had been as 
faithful to piy friend ! I took but little notice of 
him during the time he remained with me : I 
found him concealed in a remote comer of the 
general's pavilion, when we pillaged the camp of 



118 

the Romans : he kissed our hands, and hegged 
his hfe in so abject a manner, that I thought he 
would be of small utility in my family. I could 
not trust him with the care of my flocks, lest he 
should suffer them to be devoured by the wolves ; 
and I only kept him in my service, because I 
disdained to shed the blood of so defenceless a 
being. I am now convinced of my mbtake, and 
shall, for the future, remember that the almost 
invisible sting of the adder may give a more 
dangerous wound than the tusks of the mightiest 
beast of prey. I recollect that this Grecian en- 
deavoured to insinuate himself into our favour, 
by leading us to the tents where the richest uten- 
sils and furniture were to be found : but we 
despised his officiousness, and were astonished at 
the insensibilty with which he looked on the dead 
bodies of those who had been bis companions 
and protectors." 

I find that Manfred, as well as many other 
chiefs of the Cheruscans, would be willing to 
obey their leader, and assist the Chattians against 
us, but the victory* of Csecina over the Marsians, 
and the activity with which he flies from place to 

* Tacitus, Book 1. The oration of Arminiiis imitat- 
ed from Tacitus. 



119 

place^ striking terror wherever he appears^ deter 
them from moving. The territory of the Bruc- 
terians alone divides this country from our victo- 
rious army^ and these are so much affrighted at 
the impending storm, that they talk of laying 
ivaste their fields, and retiring to some distant 
region. 



1^ 



LETTER XXIV. 

ArMINIUS is here with a select party of his 
troops, having left the body of the allied army at 
a small distance from this place ; he was received 
with repeated acclamations, but he soon put an 
end to these demonstrations of joy; by declaring 
his displeasure at the unwillingness sheWn by the 
Cheruscans to assist him in the war. His coun- 
tenance, naturally open and animated, has ac- 
quired from resentment an air of wildness and 
ferocity : his stature is even above the common 
height of his countrymen : his eyes are piercing, 
and his features rather expressive than regular. 
He was scarce arrived when, enjoining silence, by 
an authoritative wave of his hand, he addressed 
the multitude in a speech which seemed the voice 
of indignation and revenge. He briefly inform- 
ed them of the captivity of his wife, and of what 
he called the perfidy of her father, demanding 
arms and warriors against Segestes, and against 
Caesar. He spared no reproaches, spoke with 
contempt of our government and of our legions; 



^ 




121 

ipreciated our successes^ and scornfully said, 

at our mighty emperor, adorned with the en- 

'"^gns of command, and seccmded by a great and 

werful army, had no other victory to boast 

rhan the enslaring a defenceless woman ; while 

imself had seen three legions, and as many ge- 

erals fall before hip ; that he never made war 

y treachery, or against women ; but openly 

^and against warriors, armed for battle. He bad 

^the Cheruscans enter their sacred groves, and 

see the Roman ensigns which he had dedicated 

to the Gods of their native country. 

'' Let Segestes,'* continued he, " become a 
willing slave, and bow beneath the yoke which 
he has imposed on himself ; let him restore his 
son to the Roman priesthood, from which the 
youth had fled, excited by a transient start of 
patriotism ; but let not the Germans ever forgive 
the man whose treason introduced between the 
Rhine and Albis,"*^ the rods, the axes, and the 
gown. To other nations th^ Roman government 
is happily yet unknown, their punishments are 
unfelt, their tributes unlevied ; they have no trai- 

♦ The river Elbe. It is scarcely possible to avoid 
some mixture of ancient and modern names ; where the 
difference is very inconsiderable, tlie modern termiua^ 
tion is adopted, as for the Rhine, &c. 



12£ 

tors like Segestes. But since you have courage- 
ously rq>elled this hold intrusion ; since Augns* 
tus, whom his countrymen have deified^ aud 
Tiherius, since crowned with, dignity and em- 
pire> have in vain attempted to ruin, and enslave 
the hardy Germans, shall they fear an inex- 
perienced youth and a seditious army? No; 
if they prefer their parents, their . relations, and 
their ancient rites, to haughty masters, and new 
colonists, they will rather follow Arminius, who 
has ever led them to fame and liberty, than 
Segestes, who would plunge them in the basest 
and most ignominious servitude/' 

The speech of Arminius, and the manner in 
which it was uttered^ had the desired efiect: .they 
clashed on their shields with their drawn sw(^ds^ 
which is always their signal of approbation for 
war. The fury was so eagerly caught, and 
spread so instantaneously, that Sigismar feared 
for my safety, and. would have conveyed me to 
some place of refuge ; but my indignation was 
raised by the boastful words of Arminius, and had 
certain death been befoire me, I could not have 
resisted the satisfaction of telling him how much 
he wronged our country. I made my way 
through the crowd, and drawing near the chief, 
*' Great leader of the Cheruscans," cried I, "be- 



123 

bold a Roman who was left covered with woundti 

on the field, of Teutoburgium : he admires your 

valour but he condemns your injustice;* you 

/ought too long and too bravely in our ranks^ not 

to know and acknowledge our courage. When 

h^\e the Romans conquered by deceit or trea- 

Cillery?'' 

Arminius looked at me with astonishment; 
erhaps he recollected my features; he paused 
a minute, and then replied. 
** Young Roman ! your temerity deserves 
ither death or liberty ; the first is contrary to 
y inclination, the second I would grants if 
^^rhusnelda were not a captive.'* 

Be assured, Septimius, that though I come 
Either in the full persuasion that I should obtain 
my liberty ; though I Ipng more ardently than 
ever to rejoin our army, I was pleased to find 
that I should not be indebted to Arminius for 
80 great an obligation. Sigismar, notwithstand- 
ing my entreaties to the contrary, has done 
every thing in his power to induce the chief to 
restore me to my country, but Arminius has 
sworn to be inexorable, till he has satiated his 
revenge, or recovered his Thusnelda. He has 
commanded Manfred to conduct me into the 
mountainous part of his territories, and after- 




124 

wards join the combined army by a short though 
difficult passage : this order has not discouraged 
me ; I trust our legions will soon break through 
all that opposes their conquests, and I am per- 
suaded that I shall not long remain a prisoner. 

Sigismar, who is to accompany the prince, ex- 
presses the utmost regret at our separation : he 
has a heart susceptible of every kind and every 
noble impression: Arminius has testified a just 
resentment for the death of Cariovaldas, and the 
rebellion of the district; but his thoughts are 
wholly taken up by the Romans. 

To-morrow he pursues his march through the 
other parts of the Cheruscan dominions, and has 
named an early day for the meeting of the dif- 
ferent chiefs on the plain where his army is en- 
camped. His vigilance, activity, and presence 
of mind, are worthy admiration ; and he is per- 
haps one of the bravest adversaries that ever met 
our legions in the field. Superior in this to other 
leaders who have opposed our arms, because he 
does not, like them, withstand the growing 
power of Rome, but the whole force of our em- 
pire in its most powerful state ; yet, not all his bra- 
very, nor all his patriotism can justify the deceit 
to which he owes his first advantage. Strata- 
gems, though my soul disdains them^ may be 



125 

excusable and even lawful against a declared 
enemy, and in the midst of actual war ; but to 
undermine the greatness of a nation with whom 
you are at peace, to wear the mask of friendship 
tin a favourable opportunity is offered to annoy 
them, such a conduct, from whatever motive it 
may proceed, degrades the hero and deliverer of 
his counti*y. 



1 



126 



LETTER XXV. 

XT was not a vain presage that assured me I 
should soon rejoin our legions, and owe my li- 
berty to no mean obligation. O Septimius ! I 
now write to you in the midst of a Roman camp, 
surrounded by my countrymen and fellow soldiers ; 
I have heard the glad tidings that Valerius, that 
Septimius still lives ; you wiU receive my letters ; 
I shall read the assurances of your friendship : 
my joy is beyond all expression ; let me endea- 
vour to recollect what has passed since my last 
letter. 

After the departure of Arminius and Sigismar, 
the last of whom seemed overwhelmed with grief 
when he bade me farewell, Manfred collected 
about two thousand soldiers and began his march 
tovvards the confines of the Bructerians, this 
being the shortest way to reach the mountains, 
where Arminius meant he should leave me in con- 
finement at no great distance from the place 
where the body of the army is encamped. Man- 
fred was not a little disconcerted when he saw 



127 

clouds of smoke ascending to the skies from the 
burning habitations of the Bructerians^''^ and soon 
after a great number of the inhabitants flying in 
disorder from a party of Roman horse. To re- 
tire appeared difficulty and not knowing the 
strength of our forces, he hesitated in what man- 
ner he should act : the flying Bructerians related 
that a body of our troops had entered their terri- 
tories, while they were themselves laying them 
waste, that their possessions might not fa)! into 
the hands of the enemy; that they had been de- 
feated with considerable slaughter, and that the 
survivors sought their safety in flight. 

In the mean time the flames increased,, and the 
country seemed one continued fire : the soldiers of 
Manfred took the alarm, and conjured their 
leader to return by the way he came : he endea- 
voured without effect to maintain order among 
them, but the confusion became general, and the 
darkness occasioned by immense clouds of smoke 
driven towards us by an impetuous wind from a 
grove which was on fire to the northward of our 
party, afforded me an opportunity of escape, 
which I delayed not to improve. I precipitately 
rushed into the grove unobserved by my conduct- 

• Tacitus, Book 1. 



128 

OYB, and soon found myself in the midst of the 
trees. The scorching heat of the air^ and the 
thickness of the sinoke^ made it difficult to ad- 
vance ; I stopped for an instant to consider how 
I should proceed, and hy the light of the 
flames perceived at a small distance, hetween the 
branches, something that shone with unusual 
splendour. I imagined that it might be the eagle^ 
of the nineteenth legion, which I had heard was 
in the possession of the Bructerians : I made my 
way towards the place, and found a little amphi- 
theatre of trees, in the centre of which on the trunk 
of an oak taller than the rest, was fastened the 
ensign so sacred to every Roman soldier. I took it 
down, and embraced it with tears of joy ; but 
the difficulty now was, to find again the diri^t 
road which I had quitted in search of the eagle : 
it was impossible to return by the same way I 



came, for the flames had already communicated 
from one branch to another, and rendered this 
passage impracticable. In the mean while I per- 
ceived the other side of the wood had caught fire 
from the fallipg sparks ; I knew that no time was to 
be lost, and forced my passage through the thicket, 

♦ Tacitus, Book 1. 

Bructerians, tinccrtain wbere tbey inhabited, their 
lands were part of the Mercinian forest 



k 



129 

though my clothes and hands were considerably 
«€orched^ till at length I found myself clear of all 
further annoyance from the fire, and with an 
open view of the country, carrying off the eagle 
vinhurt. 

I had scarce time to thank Providence for the 

mjBspeakable satisfaction I experienced when I met 

9 party of Roman soldiers, and nothing can equal 

Their surprise at seeing me issue from the flaming 

ivood, with the standard of a legion in my hand. 

1 smiled at their astonishment, and, relating as 

succinctly as I could the manner of my escape, 

enquired the name of their commander : they 

told me it was Lucius Stertinius,* sent by Caesar 

to make an inroad on the lands of the Bructerians, 

and they conducted me immediately to his tent. 

I cannot describe, Septimius, my sensations 
during the short interval between my meeting 
these soldiers and arriviilg at the pavilion of 
Stertinius : the perturbation of mind, the agi- 
tation of joy, tenderness, hope, and anxious 
curiosity lent wings to my steps, and frequently 
I was obliged to stop for my^companions . Ster- 
tinius, whom I only knew by reputation, re- 
ceived me with that pleasure whfch is always 

* Tacitusy Book 1. 
Vol. I. K 



ieit by at firave oficer at Ae a^ «f a 
soldier wiuim he had counted fer iHt. He 
Vaierioft, and ixifi>nB» lae diat he i» utift at 
and eoDstant in hia ittywimcc at die 
that be neither opposed nor aanated Tdieno» m 
bis iH-diflWB&bled ^oogh saetsssSA eadeoroim 
to pbtekcBMeif at tbe bead of pfdbfe ^Ernrs; 
bat that be i^ one of the feir senatois wb^ witk 
fmremitting dtbgence and intrepid coBstanej, 
oppo§e ereiy c n ci o a ch Ment of sofcfcign poivcr, 
and Tindicate the nmamm^ privileges of die 
people. An tb» yoa loKMr, mj friend, there- 
Ibre I need not repeat what be related to me. 

I am hap^ to find, that thoogb TiberiiB can- 
not internal] J be pleased with tbe steady condoct 
of Vakritis^ so opposite to that of many oTbis 
rank who have soed for slarery, yet knowing he 
has no treason to fear from bim^ bot on tbe con- 
trary support and assistance^ while be observes 
what he has promised to the people of Rome, he 
courts his esteem, and takes erery opportunity 
to convince him that he sets a higher value on 
•his independent principles, than on the mean 
adulation of tbe greater number of the senators. 
I have little confidence in Tiberius, but I think 
his interest is concerned in maintaining an ap- 
pearance of equity. 



131 

It appears that Slertinius has no personal 
knowledge of the family of my Aurelia^ nor 
could he give me any other information concern- 
ing you than the certainty of your heing alive. 
To-morrow we hope to join the legions of Ger- 
manicus, when all my anxiety wilU I flatter 
myself, have an end. 



132 



. LETTER XXVI. 

JrlOW vain are our ideas^ Septimius! how 
easily do we imagine that we can inspire others 
with our sentiments in the same degree as we 
feel them ourselves ! The man of sensibility who 
is about to take leave of this worlds and of those 
who have made it dear to him, passes his last 
moments in solicitude for their welfare, and in 
consoling them for his loss. He expires ; a few 
tears are perhaps shed over his urn, and his con- 
nexions return to the common duties of life, to 
the schemes of ambition, to the allurements of 
pleasure, or seek new friendships, to drive from 
their mind the importunate memory of what they 
have lost. Mankind will ever prefer hopes of 
the future to regret for the past ; and he who in 
the order of nature must expect to be forgotten, 
has no more right to complain, than he has to 
be dissatisfied that the expiring year should give 
place to the new one. 

Pardon me, Septimius, if I address these re- 
flections to you : I will not, I cannot believe you 





133 

ave driven from your heart the image of your 
lend ; but I thought it had been deeply engraven 
another breast, from which I learn it was effaced 
hnost as soon as I was supposed to be no more. 
Scarcely had we this morning began our 
arch, when we were met by the good, the re- 
ipectable Caecina,* the friend of my father and 
Valerius; -Csecina, whom forty years of dis- 
tinguished service have rendered dear to every in- 
dividual of the republic. He was sent by Ger- 
-^nanicusto explore the woods and defiles, lest any 
^:ambush of the enemy should impede the legions 
on their march ; and to build bridges, and raise 
causeways over the swamps and niorasses, through 
whtch our troops have occasion to pass on their 
way to Teutoburgium, This place the piety of 
Caesar is desirous of visiting, that he may pay 
the last duties to the memory of Varus and his 
soldiers, and satisfy the wishes of his army, 
not' only moved with compassion for their lost 
relations and friends, but for the chance of war 
and the general lot of mankind. 

Tears flowed down the venerable cheeks of the 
warrior as I approached ; he recollected my fea- 
tures, and embracing me with a transport of af- 

* pflecina, for his character and actions; see Tacitm 
and other authors. 



134 

fection that excited my wannest acknowledg- 
ments^ told me you were at Rome^ and confirmed 
the information which I had received from Ster^ 
tinius relative to my uncle. But when I enquired 
after Aurelia^ he avoided making any direct an- 
swer, only saying that he believed she was in per- 
fect health. Accustomed, to respect in him the 
severity of the ancient Roman disciphnC/ I did 
not dare to repeat immediately a question of this 
nature, and was obliged to relate all that had 
passed during my confinement, and to receive hit 
repeated congratulations on the recovery of the 
eagle/ before I could find an opportunity of intro- 
ducing again a subject so interesting to myself. 

'' You are unnecessarily anxious," said he, " to 
enquire the destiny of Aurelia; a few months 
afler Varus was defeated, she married Cornelius 
Bolabella, whom you may remember, and wiU 
see in the army of Grcrmanicus. He is a young 
mati of merit, and has distinguished himself by 
his bravery through the whole of the campaign. 
Aurelia is at Rome, and not less celebrated for her 
wit than personal accomplishments : she is the 
ntimate friend of Livia,* the wife of Drusus, a 

* livia, called by some historians Livilla, to distin- 
gnish her Groxn the empress Livia : she was the daughter 
•f Drosns 9nd Antonia^ first married to Caius Caesar, 



135 

^mnexion which, were she my daughter, I should 
3r no meai-is approve. The moments of her Ufa 
rapidly, while youth and pleasure strew the. 
with flowers. I am rarely in her presence, 
my rough and antiquated manners would 
^•^ic^ake a strange contrast to those of the hriUiant 
^^iTcle that constantly attends a reigning beauty." 
I made no reply to Caecina's reflections : my 
l^«art was too full. You know, Septimius, that 
Xl>olabella''^ and myself had long been rivals, and 
^Viat the preference given to me by the parents of 
.A.\irelia was, in a great measure, owing to her in- 
uence, which she confirmed by so many demon- 
trations of tenderness, by so many vows and 
romises, that I supposed her constancy would 
^yer remain unshaken. Shall I now confess the 
"^ureakness of my fears ? I thought myself so truly, 
mo fondly loved by Aurelia, that I feared her grief 
:ibr my loss would prey on her health, and perhaps 
3>utan end to. her existence. If ever my imagina- 
tion admitted the idea of her being' induced by 
time and the persuasion of her friends, to form an 

adoptive son of Augustus ; after bis death to Drusns, 
•on of Tiberius, and at length to Sejanus. Tacitus, &c. 

* Dolabella, a noble fmnily in Rome, branch of the 
Comelii, mentioned by Tadtus, and all historians. 



136 

union with another^ I supposed pbedience alone 
would have directed her choice^ and made the sa- 
crifice complete. The graces, the amiahle quali- 
ties of Dolahella, would, I conceived, have been 
a bar to his happiness : the rival of Marcus, 
thought I, will never be allowed to appear in her 
presence. — Oh! Septimius, did you know how 
her image has been fixed in my mind, you 
would not blame my indignation ! I often for- 
bore to mention her in my letters, when my 
thoughts were wholly dedicated to her; I felt 
more than I could express :^ — it is past, and I 
must rather blame myself than her. What right 
had I to expect she should be faithful to the dead ? 
I wished her happy, and she is so ; yet, methinks, 
a few short months could not efface from her re- 
membrance the most constant, the most ardent 
, of lovers. Pardon me, Septimius, I should re- 
flect that nothing is so irksome, even to the ear of 
a friend, as tales of love in which he is not him- 
self concerned. Duty calls upon me to shake off 
this baneful passion^ and my only study hence- 
forth must be, to retrieve the hours lost in capti- 
vity, and prove myself no unworthy citizen of 
the republic. 

We thought to join this evening the army of 
our general, but the badness of the roads has 



137 

Kiade our march more tedious than Stertiniushad 
expected. We hope to come up with Caesar to- 
»iorrow morning on the field of Teutoburgium ; 
there I shall meet the happy Dolabella crowned 
Tvith fame. He deserves it : I always knew him 
l)rave and generous, and I will not say I should 
have been better pleased if he had acquired his 
honours in some other province rather than in 
Germany, where the ill-fated, the forgotten Mar- 
cus was so long an inglorious captive. Oh ! had 
I then known what this day has disclosed^ what 
must have been my rage ! my desperation ! lliank 
heaven I can now resume a soldier's duty : the 
war is not ended : Arminius with greater forces 
than ever, prepares to meet us ; a plenteous har- 
vest of laurels is still to reap ; and either they shall 
strew my grave on these fields, already witnesses 
of my actions, or bind my temples as I ascend 
the capitol, to return thanks to immortal Jove 
for .having still preserved Valerius and my 
friend. 






ISS 



LETTER XXVII. 

JL HIS day^ Septimius^ has been the most 
afiecting of my whole life ; I have no inclination 
to sleep> and as the messenger^ dispatched by 
Germanicus with his letters to Rome^ is to de-^ 
part at day break, I cannot forbear to relate 
what has passed since I concluded my epistle of 
yesterday. 

We began our march by moonlight, andi 
soon after the sun was risen, arrived at the 
fatal \ alley, the melancholy aspect of which 
awakened in the mind of every soldier a mix^ 
ture of horror and indignation. 

On one side* appeared the wide-extended 
ruins of the camp of Varus, an;d on the other 
the woods of the barbarians; in the midst, a 
field, white with the bones of our unburied 
legions; some in heaps, as they had fallen 
faithRil to their duty; others scattered where 

• Tadtas^ Book 1. 



139 

confusion and despair had separated them from 
their ranks. Amongst them lay the fragments 
of weapons^ and the remains of horses con- 
founded with those of their unfortunate mastei^. 
The remembrance of the friends and fellow-sol- 
diers, whose perils I had shared^ and whose 
society had once made rae happy, overwhelmed 
me with the most poignant grief; the time 
which had elapsed since my departure from 
Teutoburgiuin seemed lost in the present scene ; 
acd my imagination transported me to the day 
before the engagement. I saw Varus adorned 
with all the dignity of command, surrounded 
by a number of young patricians, whose coun- 
tenances, animated by hope and ambition, 
added splendour to the brilliant appearance of 
our cavalry; three legions, composed of tlie 
hardiest youths of Rome, whose discipline and 
valour promised victory in the most arduous 
enterprises, all swept at once from the face of 
day : and I, the only survivor, their companion 
and their friend, now wandering over a dreary 
space, where, at every step, I trampled on the 
bones of some fellow-soldier, with whom, me- 
thought, I had passed the former evening in 
confident discourse, or thoughtless merriment! 
I was roused from these mournful images by 



140 

the sound of Caesar's trumpets^ and his army 
soon appeared at the entrance of the valley. 
The chief alighted from his horse, and all the 
officers followed his example ; a general silence 
ensued; and a more awful scene cannot be 
imagined. The troops remained long in mute 
and reverential contemplation of the dead : our 
cohorts then advanced, and Stertinius presented 
me to the general, who, after the first moment 
of surprise, received me with the tenderness of a 
brother. The whole army thronged around me, 
and I confess, my dear Septimius, my heart, at 
that instant, wanted the testimonies of regard 
which I experienced. 

Germanicus led me round the field, and made 
me point out to him the place where the legates* 
fell, where Varus received the first wound, and 
where he transfixed his own bosom with his 
sword. He enquired where the barbarians took 
possession of our eagles : I pointed to a moun« 
tain of bones whose owners had fallen in their 
defence, and Stertinius advancing, presented to 
him the standard of the nineteenth legion, re- 

* Legates, lieutenant-generals ; who acted under the 
orders of the commander in chief, and were his com* 
tellors: their persons were held sacred* 



Wlr 



^V 



141 

^ S" "to him in what manner I had snatched it 
jj^ "ttie flaming wood. At that instant a ge- 

gjj ^liout from the whole army repaid me for 

sufferings^ and Germanicus embraced me 
^uch an expression of joy, with such re- 
fr^^ "^^^ congratulations, as could only spring 
^^ ^^ «i heart conscious of its own worth, and ge- 
^^ ^^^V^sly elevated with the praises of another. 
£^^^^ "^ext contemplated the wood where we still 

the .altars, at which th^ tribunes, and prin- 
^l centurions, had been sacrificed. Germani- 
» from the report of the captives, sent back 
Arminius to inform Augustus of our defeat, 
^^d more knowledge than myself of the horrid 
>cumstances which followed the victory of the 
crman leader. Humanity recoils at the rela- 
on, and with encreasing gratitude I thank 
I^eaven that saved me from the shame of owing 
"^y liberty to the insulting murderer of my 
countrymen. The cruelties committed on the 
Inferior prisoners seem incompatible with his 
i[nagnanimity and courage, no less than the un- 
'worthy treatment of the breathless remains of 
our general, which his expiring soldiers had in 
vain endeavoured, to secure, by hasty funeral 
rites, from the insatiable revenge of a barbarous 
enemy. 
The resentment of the army was beyond con- 



14fi 

ceptioDi and each man^ as if he mourned a 
friendj or brother, without being able to dis*^ 
tinguish from the rest the bones of those who had 
been dear to him^ assisted to form one grave> in 
which, with decent pomp> we buried the re-* 
mains of our fellow-citizens and soldiers. A 
monument of turf was erected over them, and 
Germanicus paid a grateful tribute to the memo- 
ry of the dead, by sharing the sentiments and 
labour of his troops : he brought the first ma- 
terials for raising the sepulchral mound, and 
when it was completed, having pronounced 
thrice the last farewell, thus pursued: 

'^ Brave soldiers! who have sacrificed your 
lives to the honour and defence of the Roman 
name, we shall follow you, whenever nature, or 
the cause of our country demands it May this 
hostile earth, of which your valour has taken 
possession, lie light upon you; and may our 
arms for ever drive the enemy from a place 
which your remains have consecrated." 

The music of the legions then sounded an 
animated march, and leaving the field of Teuto- 
burgium, we arrived at an open plain, where we 
encamp for this evening : to-morrow it is the in- 
tention of our leader to pursue Arminius, who is 
not very remote from our army. 

Germanicus with whom I am to hve in the 



143 

isame manner as I did with Varus^ no sooner saw 
^he tents pitched^ than he assembled the soldiers, 
'^ind publickly returning me thanks for the reco- 
"^ery of the eagle, conferred on me the most dis- 
tinguished military rewards. He then invited 
^be legates, some of the tribunes, and many of 
~^e young patricians whom I had known at 
^ome, to sup in his pavilion ; amongst whom I 
'^ound Cornelius Dolabella. He felicitated me on 
-ttiy return with visible embarrassment, and ra- 
"ttier avoided joining in the conversation, which 
^^^as mipported by Germanicus with an ease and 
•'Vivacity beyond description, and can only be 
c^€>inpared to what our fathers have told of the 
"^icianners of the no less amiable than, heroic au- 
Lor of the Caesarian greatness. He treats me 
'ith distipguished kindness, and expresses the 
Iriighest esteem for Valerius : he has likewise 
^^noade me happy by an assurance, that the actions 
^of my friend have justified the opmion I had 
"Conceived of him. With what pleasure, Sep- 
-^imius, did I Usten to your praises! I feel myself 
restored to far more than life by receiving infor- 
mMion of those who are dear to me. — Would 
I could forget Aurelia ! 

I write to Valerius, and should he be absent 
from Rome when the messenger arrives, you will 



144 

take care that my letter is immediately conveyed 
to him. I enclose one for Philo, the freedman 
of my father, and beg you will assist him in the 
conduct of my affairs. How long have I driven 
from my remembrance every consideration of 
that nature ! How many wants has luxury in- 
vented ? Four days since, a simple habit suffi- 
cient to shield me from the inclemencies of the 
weather, and arms to defend me against any sud- 
den attack, were all the property I found it ne- 
cessary to possess. Now every moment pro- 
duces a new want : variety of apparel, slaves to 
attend and importune me, furniture for my tent, 
horses and caparisons to adorn them, carriages 
to transport these effects, and a thousand other 
inconveniences of polished life. These are, pro- 
bably, now in the hands of Arminius, or his 
Cheruscans, who little conceive that objects, 
which they despise, are again become indispen- 
sably necesisary to me. The questor furnishes 
me Once more with these trappings of civiliza- 
tion ; but it Svill be long before I can be accus- 
tomed to the oppressive grandeur of being serv- 
ed by men less active than myself, and far less 
capable of enduring fatigue and hardship. 

Csesar has givien me the choice whether I will 
continue with him in Germany, or return to 



145 

^^'isit my friends at Rome: you will readily 
^^elieve tbat^ notwithstanding my impatience to 
-^^c you, and to assure Valerius of my filial . at- 
"^SLcbment, I prefer staying with the legions, till a 
dsive victory permits me to be restored with 
Lonour to my country. Farewell, Septimius! 

itb what joy shall I behold the return of the 

f 



Vol. I. 



146 



LETTER XXVIII. 

As the event of yesterday has compelled Caesar 
to dispatch another messenger to Tiberius, I will 
not omit informing you of our proceedings. 

After closing my last letter I threw myself on 
my couch^ but a thousand images^ rapidly suc- 
ceeding each other, drove sleep far from me ; and 
when day appeared I received a message from 
Caesar to attend him in his tent. 

I found him alone, holding in his hand a small 
portrait* which I immediately recollected : I 
fear my thoughts were too visible in my coun- 
tenance. Germanieus smiled and giving it to 
me, '* You have undoubtedly," said he, " been 
informed by Caecina of the marriage of Dola* 
bella which took place some time after it was 
imagined you were no more. Not long since, 
when we took Segestes and his daughter prison- 
ers, we recovered a great part of the booty car- 
ried oflP by Arminius from Teutoburgium. I 

* €icero in his letters to Atticus, 0?id, Virgil, &e. 



I 




147 

S^sive orders it should be exposed in the Forum, 
^^at in case any of our officers or soldiers recog- 
ised what had belonged to their relations or 
riends, they might have an opportunity to pre- 
nt it from falling into the hands of strangers, 
mongst the rest this portrait, ornamented with 
newels, excited the curiosity of the whole army : 
est of our young officers were struck with its re- 
mblance to the beauteous Aurelia, and not a few 
urchasers offered themselves. Bolabella hap- 
ened at that moment to be absent, as I had 
^ent him with a few horse to escort the prisoners ; 
^ therefore took the portrait and at his return de- 
"^ivered it to him. He was peculiarly thankful, 
^uid informed me, that as you were engaged to 
lAurelia when you departed for Germany, it had 
■probably belonged to you : on examining the 
Jewels we found your cypher and her's united. 
'' Last night, after the company retired, Dola- 
bella brought it to me, and requested me to ask 
you if it had once been yours ; in that case he 
Wished to restore the jewels, but retain the por- 
trait of his wife, which, he said, could not with 
propriety remain in any other hands.'* 

O Septiinius. ! the moment in which this image 
<>f Aurelia had been given me, the tears that ac- 
eompanied the gift, the thousand thousand times 



148 

I had regretted her \o^, all rushed into my me- 
mory, and it was long before I could repjy. At 
length I informed Germanicus, that on receiving 
this from Aurelia, I had promised death alone should 
make me part with it. I declared to him my in- 
tention that the jewels, with which I had or- 
namented it when in my possession, should be 
given into the common treasury of the legions, 
and that I would destroy the cyphers, to which 
I confessed I had no longer any pretension ; but 
that the portrait I neither could, nor would re- 
linquish, though I would give my honour to Do- 
labella that it should never be seen in my hands. 
Germanicus expostulated with me -on the im- 
propriety of exciting the jealousy of a man of 
merit and delicacy, but his arguments were of 
no avail : I destroyed the cyphers in his presence 
not without some agitation, and went to deliver 
the jewels into the treasury. Dolabella, whom I 
met as I came out of the Quaestor's pavilion, ac- 
costed me coldly : I stopped him, and, acknow- 
ledging my thanks for the message I had receiv- 
ed, repeated the reasons I had given to Caesar 
for not restoring the portrait of Aurelia. He re- 
sented this refusal rather warmly, and I could 
scarcely repress my emoti<in. Antaeus with 
Sergiiis Sulpitius interposed, and Germanicus, 



149 

who appeared about the same time, having 
taken Dolabella aside for a few minutes, return- 
ed and assured me that he confided in my ho- 
nour. It was however easy to perceive that he 
Wasnot perfectly satisfied. 

While we were thus engaged, the officers, sent 
by ouir general to observe the motions of the ene-^ 
Hay, came back with intelligence that Arminius,* 
«H the head of a small party of soldiers, was retiring 
^^^-ith precipitation into the, woods.. Germanicus 
i mmediately commanded out the horse to follow ; 
X! obtained his permission to accompany them, 
nd we soon came up with Arminius, who fled 
Lill he had drawn us into difficult and fallacious 
ground. He then ordered his Cheruscans to 
^tand> and a desperate skirmish ensued, which 
seemed to incline to our advantage, when on a sud- 
den, the leader of the Germans gave the signal for 
-31 considerable number of his people, whom he had 
3)laced in ambush in the neighbouring woods, to 
surround us on all sides. Our soldiers knew not 
which way to turn ; they were driven by the ene- 
my into marshes, or wilds, of which they were 
ignorant, and consequently incapable of extricat- 
ing themselves. I used every effort to recall 
them to their duty, rallied them thrice, and must 

♦ Tacitus, Book l. 



/ 150 '^ 

I acknowledge that I was greatly assisted by the va^ 
i lour and presence of mind which Dolabella dis- 
i played on this occasion. At length we were left 
with a few hundreds exposed to the whole force 
of Arminius. The subsidiary cohorts, who were 
sent to our assistance, caught the panic from the 
flying horse, who, more terrified by the danger 
of being lost in rivers or morasses, than alarmed 
at the multitude of the enemy, shamefully desert- 
ed us. Our situation, which had been perilous 
from the commencement of the engagement, be- 
came now desperate, and our oidy prospect was 
to sell our hves as dear as possible. Dolabella 
fought bravely by my side, but without exchang-* 
ing a word ; till at length, to our great satisfac- 
tion we saw a cloud of dust arise at a distance, and 
soon found it was occasioned by Germanicus who 
brought his legions to our succour. Hope now 
smiled again, and our men began to recover their 
usual ardor ; but while I was encouraging them 
to persevere, I lost sight of Dolabella, and a mo- 
ment after perceived him on the ground with a 
Marsian directing a spear to his bosom. I imme- 
diatiely flew to his assistance, but was very near 
arriving too late : I plunged my sword under the 
arm of the Marsian, at the instant he was about 
to strike the mortal blow^ and he fell breathless 



Iv51 

:om hi& horse r two>pthQW»iVtoo cWei^neairlum 

attacked me^ and I receiv^i^ stiglit ^ound Hi /nay 

Dolabella T^ja^'miil^uit ^ his, faUt jl^ been OC'- 

^^i^asioned by t^ -deatb of bis hQrse> {jgav;^ hini 

^^rnine^' and took that of the Mja^si^ ;- the legi^oiis 

~^)ehaved well, but the confusion had been too 

^reat to allow us a complete victory. The Ger- 

^anans retreated, and our troops retired in good 

-^rder. 

This morning I received the civic crown* for 
- having saved the life of Dolabella, who has ex- 
press'ed his grateful acknowledgment in the most 
affectionate manner : his thanks are certainly un- 
necessary, and I am ashamed of the applauses 
that re-echo through the ranks for such a com- 
mon event. 

The season is so far advanced, and the climate 
80 rigorous, that no more can be done at present ; 
to-morrow we begin our march towards the river 
Amisa,t and Germanicus will embark with his 
legions in the same ships which brought them. 
Part of the horse are' to direct their course by the 
■ea coast towards the Rhine, and Csecina leads 
fais troops, which consist of four legions, over the 

* Aalus Gellius, PliDy, &c. 
t The Emse. 



152 

marshes^ by the narrow causeway formerly rais* 
ed by Lucius Domitius. 

' As I accompany the general, it is probaUe I 
tball have no opportunity of .writing to you again 
before we arrive at our winter quarters ; there I 
hope to receive your letters, and impatiently lon(j^ 
to read the information they may contain. 



153 



iy 



LETTER XXK. 

AfTEA a tedious voyage,* we arrived yester- 
day at the place of our destination. Germanicus 
sent Vitellius, with the second and fourteenth le- 
gion^ part of the way round by land/ that our 
ships might not be too heavily laden in the most 
dangerous part of our navigation. The weather 
was very tempestuous before we entered the mouth 
of the Visurgis : here we took on board the le- 
gions, which had proceeded through the marshes 
with the utmost difficulty and danger, but the 
sight of their general made them amends for every 
fatigue and labour. 

We found Cfficitia and his army arrived a few 
days before us. You will read the public accounts 
of the victory obtained by this experienced com- 
mander, after almost incredible hardships, and 
the most desperate conflict. He has gained im- 
mortal honour, and miraculously saved the troops 
committed to his care. The report of his being 

* Tacitosy book 1. 



154 

attacked, and surrounded by the forces of Anni« 
nius> and a large body of Germans coming to ra- 
vage the Gallic territories, had made scich an im- 
pression on the soldiers who were left to g^ard 
our winter qualrters, that they formed the in- 
famous resolution of destroying the bridge over the 
Bhine, to prevent at once the retreat of our arm^, 
and the invasion of the barbarians. Agrippina,''^ 
with a spirit worthy the grand-daughter of Au- 
gustus, ' arid the wife of Germanipus, took on her- 
self the duty of a commander in; chief, an^ pre-, 
vented their design. She stood at the fopt of tl\e 
bridge, and received the victorious Caecina apd 
his legions with accumulated thanks aud pirauises,. 
distributing clothes to the needy, and medicines 
to the wounded. She is nearly .as much adore4 
by the army as Germanicus himself; her great- 
ness of mind is beyond expressions and iQ^ch I 
fear her virtues and loftiness of. spirit may be- 
come obnoxious to the emperor, w^ose .frequent 
letters to his adoptive son are always writt^^.ip a 
stile that -plainly manifests the jeaTousy he , ha^ 
c(moeived from his successes. Nothing, howey^,^', 
can be m<»re unexceptionable tl\an the conduct 
of Germanicus towards Tiberius : he takes every 
opportunity of setting his actions in the fairest 

* Daughter of Marcus Agnjppa and Julia. 



155 

light, and directing the love of his soldiers to 
their emperor. This morning he has visited the 
wounded, and enquired particularly into the be- 
haviour of each individual, extolled his courage, 
consoled him with hopes of future victories, and 
with the consciousness of present glory* The 
Gauls have ' offered arms, recruits, horses, and 
tribute : Caesar accepts the arms and horses^ but 
bestows rewards on the soldiers out of his priv^tie; 
fortune. 



156 



LETTER XXX. 

With what joy have I received your letter, 
my dear Septimius ! How can I ever sufficiently 
thank you for your friendly resolution of passing 
the winter with me! How impatiently I wait 
your arrival! This letter will meet you on the 
road, and assure you of my gratitude. Your en- 
gagements with Drusus, and the necessity of 
your joining the Dlyrian army early in the spring, 
are the only circumstances that give me pain ; 
but these increase my obligation. I hoped to 
have received, by the same messenger, a letter 
from Valerius, but the information you give me 
of his absence from Rome, and of his being at 
his villa near Baia^, accounts for his silence. You 
have raised my curiosity concerning his lovely 
daughter, who was not more than twelve years of 
age when I left the capital : I did not then even 
see her, as, from her earliest childhood, slie had 
been under the tuition of her mother Sempronia, 
whose health did not allow her to leave the soft 



157 

elimateof Campania. You say^ that since the 
death. of Sempronia^ her daughter has been not 
only the companion, but the confidential friend 
of her father : happy Valeria ! how often have I 
wished for such a blessing ! 

Germanicus has received letters from his sister 
Livia : she informs him that Aurelia fainted when 
she heard of my being yet ahve : it seems this 
intelligence was given her in a numerous com- 
pany. Dolabella has asked Csesar's leave to de- 
part for Rome> with the promise of returning 
in Ijie spring, but our general is obliged to, 
refuse his request, having given orders that no 
officer shall absent himself from the army except 
on duty, as his intentions are to commence the 
military operations earlier than usual in the hopes 
of finishing the war by a decisive stroke. To this 
effect he collects all the forces possible, orders a 
considerable fleet to be in readiness, and has sent 
Silius, Antaeus, and Caecina, to preside over the 
construction of the vessels, which are to be built 
in a peculiar manner, to resist the violence of the 
northern seas. Dolabella is to inform the Bata- 
vians* of the general's determination, that his 
ships shall rendezvous in their islands. We are 

♦ The Dutch. Tacitus, 



158 



i 

1 ■ . . ^ ■ 

i to embark ag soon as the wintry gales are over^ 

and shall thus be in the heart of Germany long 
I before it would be possible to penetrate (here by 
land, considering the shortness of the summers, 
the length of time necessarily consumed in 
marches, rendered more diiSicult by the nature 
of the soil, and the pertinacious activity of its in- 
habitants ; not to mention the delay occasioned 
by the quantity of baggage that attends our army, 
which will now be easily transported by sea with- 
out retarding the operations. Such is the plan of 
our general, who sees with pain that Tiberius 
makes a pretence of the troubles in the east, to 
recall him from legions which are so sincerely at- 
tached to him, and seeks to rob him of the con- 
quests which his prudence, bravery, and former 
successes ensure him in a future campaign : all 
therefore conspires to increase his impatience for 
the termination of the war. 

I am not surprised at the emperor's conduct. 
Profound dissimulation, and malicious envy, 
form the basis of his character, and who could be 
a more natural object of his fears than Germani- 
cus, a man whose virtue becomes a satire on his 
adoptive father ? Notwithstanding the pains taken 
by our leader to discourage all strictures on the 
proceedings of Tiberius, the general sentiments 



C-C., 



149 

but too manifest. I hear every day murmurs 
^rid reproaches ; and the most odious measures^ 
invented by an unjust and illiberal system of poli- 
ios, are supposed to be the study and employment 
of Tiberius. What is the ferocious, cruelty of Ar- 
icninius in the fields when compared to the com- 
X>licated guilt which the cool and sedentary 
S'tatesman plans and prepares for execution 
i» the closet ? 

However, Septimius, though I open my heart 

"to you on matters of such importance, I invaria- 

iDly discountenance conversations of this kind in 

xuy presence. I respect, in Tiberius, the majesty 

«f the Roman empire; and consider that our 

^uty consists in withstanding the corruption and 

encroachments of power, not in justifying its 

excesses by seditious discourses. 

We are told that Arminius is making immense 
preparations. How often do I think of Sigismar ! 
With what infinite concern do I reflect that he is 
our eiiemy ! In the skirmish between our cavalry 
and their forces, my eyes sought for him in vain, 
nor have I been able to gain the least intelligence 
relative to him, though I have not been wanting 
in making every enquiry. 



160 



LETTER XXXI.* 

JtlOW swiftly fly the moments in friendly and 
congenial intercourse ! Your presence, Septimi- 
us, cherished in me every pleasing sentiment, and 
my attachment to you, being mellowed into the 
most settled esteem, is no longer merely the af- 
fection of youth, often founded on a casual con- 
formity of pursuits, and liable to be blasted by 
every extraneous accident. Though our years 
have been few, the trials I have experienced and 
the uninterrupted regard which you retained for 
me, even when you supposed me unconscious of 
all human events, have cemented our friendship 
beyond the power of fate ; and never did I more 
want the consolation which you alone can bestow. 
I in vain hope for news of Valerius ; the messen- 
ger whom I dispatched, while you were with me, 
is now returned without giving me the smallest in- 
telligence: the report so industriously spread by 

* The historidal part of this letter from TacitiUi 
Book 3. 



161 

TrberitiB^ that from his villa at Baise he crossed 
the country to Brundusiuin> and there embarked 
for Greece^ seems to me highly improbable ; 
though several letters from that sea port confirm 
the account, and declare that he was seen by 
many of the principal citizens. Had this been 
true, would not the messenger have discovered in 
l^hat ship he sailed ? to what port his course was 
directed? A senator, whose birth and abilities 
have made him so conspicuous cannot easily be 
concealed, and how contrary to his character is 
so mysterious a conduct ! I have notwithstanding 
sent letters for him, directed to the care of the 
person with whom it is said he resided, while he 
waited for a favourable wind. Still I retain some 
hopes — cither I will spend my life in wandering 
over the earth in search of him, or I will discover 
the retreat that hides the guardian and protector 
of my youth. 

Soon after your departure for Illyria, while our 
vessels were preparing, Caesar ordered the legate 
Mills to make an inroad on the territories of the 
Cattians, and hearing the Roman castle, which 
commands the river Luppia,* was besieged, he 

* La lippe. 
Vol. I. M 



162 

went thither himself with six legions; but the 
sudden and violent rains prevented Silius from 
doing any thing more than carrying off an incon- 
siderable booty, and a few prisoners, amongst 
whom are the wife and daughter of the prince of 
the Cattians. Neither had Caesar an opportunity 
of acting, for we found that the besiegers had fled 
at the news of his approach; but before their 
flight they had thrown down the ancient altar 
raised to the memory of Drusus. German icus re- 
placed it, and celebrated with the legions funeral 
games in honour of his father : you will receive a 
description of them, and will learn that I was so 
fortunate as to gain several prizes, for which our 
leader likewise contended with many of the prin- 
cipal officers. 

He raised various new mounds and fortifications 
in that part of the country, and as soon as the 
fleet was in readiness we embarked on the canal 
which bears the name of Brusus.* Our chief, 

* Youngest son of the Empress Liviay celebrated for 
his conquests, the name of Germanicus granted to him 
and his family after his death, which happened during his 
successiiil expedition at the age of thirty. For his cha- 
racter see Veil. Pat. Tacitus, &c. The canal of Drusus, 
between ^rnheim and Duesburg in Gelderland; eight 



^ 



f 





163 

lio never omits an opportunity of honouring the 
emory of his father, sacrificed to his manes on 
e deck of 'the praetorian galley, and entreated 
at he would assist him by liis example, and the 
membrance of his counsels, in the same enter- 
rise which formerly spread his fame to the most 
istant regions. 
Hence we proceeded on our voyage through the 
orthem ocean, a navigation long unattempted 
y our countrymen. Drusus, whose early death 
an never be sufficiently deplored by the Roman 
eople, whom in all probability he would have 
estored to their ancient freedom, was the first of 
-^)ur warriors that ever dared these boisterous seas 
^and unknown coasts : his son with rapture con- 
'templated the. billows, which recalled to his feel- 
ing heart the image of his father. 

** Marcus,^* said he to me, '' behold the awful 
swell and verdant colouring of these waves, how 
much mcMre sublime they appear than those we see 
from Misenum or Ravenna!* These are a more 

miles between Iselvort and Doesburg. Tesselgat or Ti- 
yelstroom. Ainsworth, Ciuverios. 

* Misennm and Ravenna were the two principal sta- 
tions of the Roman fleet The waves of the ocean are 
much more green than those of the Mediterranean. 



164 

laistiug and more splendid trophy to the memory 
of my father, than Parian marble or Corinthian 
brass. When Egypt's Pyramids shall be levelled 
irith the plain, on which they now rear their lofty 
heads ; when the fallen ruins of temples, x^ircusses, 
and obelisks, shall raise the valleys to the surface 
of the hills; when Romans shall be confounded 
With Barbarians, and our slaves become our mas- 
ters ; still shall these waves in unchanged majesty 
resist the shock of earthquakes and the revolution 
of empires ; still shall they bear testimony to the 
intrepidity of him, who for the love of his country 
first courted their terrors and subdued their fury. 
Let Socrates descant, and Zeno lay down maxims 
of stoicism ; this is the only school for true magna- 
nimity, fortitude, and vigilance. Where can we 
better learn the instability of human affairs, the 
sudden turns of fortune, the necessity of unremit- 
ting diligence, of active industry, of exact disci* 
pline, and unshaken presence of inind ? Where 
can we sooner be convinced of the advantages of 
union, subordination, and a firm reliance on the 
immortal Ruler of the universe \" 

In such conversations we passed the time on 
board our galley: the winds were favourable 
to our wished^ and, after the happiest naviga* 



165 

tion, we arrived at the mouth of the river 
Amisia. 

Germanicus here leaves his fleets and we shall 
proceed up the country with all possible celerity. 
Farewell, Septimius. 



I 



166 



LETTER XXXII * 

1 WILL not fatigue you, my friend, with the 
detail of our march from the horders of the 
river Amisia, to the place whence I now address 
you. We are encamped on the hanks of the 
Visurgis,t which alone divides us from the 
forces of Arminius. His brother Flavins is in 
our army. He has long fought under the Ro- 
man ensigns with unshaken fidelity and is a 
man of intrepid courage, approved honesty, 
and plain understanding : he has neither the 
talents nor ambition of his brother, but has been 
ever found an useful ally. This morning Ar- 
minius appeared on the opposite shore of the 
river, and desired a conference with Flavins. 
Germanicus, observing that the Cheruscan leader 
removed his guards, commanded our archers to 
retire from the banks and granted the confer- 

* For the interview between Flaviiu and his brother^ 
see Tacitus, Book 2. 

t Visurgis j the river Veser. 



167 

nee requested. Many of our officers went 
cm curiosity to see the German commander 
nd to hear the discourse of the two brothers ; 
nd I accompanied them in hopes of meeting, 
r learning some account of Sigismar; but in 
^his I was disappointed. 

Arminius saluted his brother, whom he had 
'aiot seen for many years. Flavins had in, this 
^interval lost an eye while in the service of 
Tiberius : this .circumstance attracted the notice 
of the Cheruscan chief, who enquired what 
compensation he had obtained for this misfor- 
tune: Flavins informed him of the collar, 
crowns, and other military honours, besides an 
increase of pay which had been granted him. 
His brother heard him with contempt, named 
them the badges of slavery, and asked him how 
he could prefer being the mercenary of a tyrant, 
to the honourable station of commanding a peo- 
ple who fought for their liberty. Flavins seemed 
little moved by these reproaches, and spoke 
highly of the greatness of Rome, and the cle- 
mency of Tiberius towards the wife and child 
of Arminius, who were treated at Ravenna, 
the place assigned for their habitation, with all 
the respect and attention he could himself have 
desired for them. This, far from appeasing the 



168 

enraged chief, added fewel to his anger: he 
reproached his brother for serving against his 
country and relations; and Flavius, in return, 
expostulated with him for having deceived the 
confidence of Varus, and disturbed the peace of 
Germany. 

''Liberty," said he,, "is the pretence with 
which you conceal your ambition ; you can 
neither brook a master nor an equal ; it is you, 
and not the Romans who destroy the Cheruscans : 
had you faithfully observed the sacred treaties 
into j^hich our nation entered with this powerful 
republic, you would have maintained your coun- 
try in peace and independence, and ha^e 
always found a generous and potent ally, ready 
to defend you against your rival neighbours, I 
atti no traitor ; I have never changed my prin- 
ciples, and one day the Cheruscans will know 
that the man who breaks his word with his ene- 
mies, can never be true to his friends/' 

Arminius replied to this by bitter invectives 
against the Romans. Flavins lost all patience, 
and called for his horse and armour, potwith- 
standing the river was between them, while 
their fury, regardless of all obstacles, would 
have made them plunge into the stream to 
decide the quarrel by the sword, if Stertinius 



Ik 




169 

not interposed to prevent so impious a 
ombat. 
Our whole army was shocked at what had 
ast, and a horror for civil discord was visible on 
Tery countenance. Germanicus did not fail 
seize the opportunity of giving them an 
^sistructive lesson: ''Behold/^ said he to the 
umbers who were gathered round him, "be- 
old what an odium the want of unanimity 
asts on the bravest and most shining characters ! 
^Seditious principles^ and the love of change, 
ave blasted all the laurels of Arminius ; and 
leven Flavius, whose faith and pierseverance in 
i:he cause of justice, deserve the highest encomi* 
urns, is engaged, though not by his own fault, to 
bear arms against his country, and cannot sin'^ 
cerely enjoy the triumphs which he assists^ in 
gaining. The closer have been the ties» the 
greater is the animosity when they are broken: 
may Heaven avert such crimes from the sons of 
Romulus; and may s^ glorious victory soonrestore 
peace and trariquilUty to this deluded country P* 
The troops applauded the words of their gene- 
ral, and returned with ardour to their work : the 
bridges will soon be completed, and it is> to be ex.* 
peeted that a decisive engagement wiH shortly 
ensue. 



170 



LETTER XXXm* 

* 

X H I S mornings Septimius/ our whole army 
passed the Visurgis. The horse forded the river 
in different places to divert the enemy, and pro- 
tect the passage of the legions. Our Batavian 
allies, whose hardy intrepidity cannot sufficient- 
ly be admired, exposed themselves rather too 
rashly : they fell into one of the usual snares of 
the Cheruscans: many of their principal nobility 
perished, the rest were saved by their own valour, 
and by the assistance of our cavalry, under the 
(command of Emilius and Stemius. 

A deserter from Arminius informed us that the 
united forces of various nations of Germany were 
assembled in the wood sacred to Hercules, and 
that it was the intention of the leader to make this 
night an attack on our camp. The intelligence 

• Visit of the camp, &c. Tacitus, book 2. The de- 
scription of a Roman camp is to be found in Polybios, 
&c. The Augurale was a sort of chapel. A sestertioi 
Worth Ijd.; a sestertium^ or great sesterce^ 82. 1«. S^- 



171 

of their numbers and vicinity has been confirmed 
by the sight of their fires, and the report of those 
who have been sent to make discoveries. Ger* 
manicus has taken every necessary precaution : 
as soon as it was dark he led me aside, and obser- 
ved to me, that a general engagement was un- 
doubtedly at hand, and that he was anxious to 
know what were the real thoughts of his soldiers 
on the occasion. '* The tribunes and centu- 
Tipns,^' said he, *' always declare that their men 
are in excellent spirits, and eager to engage. I 
mistrust the servility of my freedmen^ and the 
partiality of my friends : if I call a council, what- 
ever is proposed by two or three will be adopted 
by the rest. The only way to be assured of the 
true sentiments of the army, is to mix in the 
crowd, and hear what they say in their tents, 
when the table is spread, and the tongue utters 
the language of the heart. Let us throw over J 

Qur habits an ordinary mande, and, thus dis- 
guised, take our walk round the camp.^' 

" Many chiefs," answered I, " would have 
made me such a proposal unregarded; I would 
not have chosen to be the witness of their mortifi- 
cation ; but Germanicus has nothing to fear, and 
I will gladly accompany him.*' 
To avoid being observed by the sentinels in 



172 

leaving the prstorium^ we went out at the augu* 
rial door> and first directed our steps towards the 
tents of the allies. We found every thing in good 
order> and heard them talk of the rewards they 
expeoted from the generosity of Caesar, and the 
advantages they should reap from the humilia- 
tion of their neighbours. 

We next entered the center of the camp by 
the Via Quintana, and' approached near to 
many of the Roman tents that were open, and 
the soldiers seated round the tables. All re- 
sounded with the praises of Germanicus: a- 
mongst the rest there Was one at which the con- 
versation was peci:^iatly animated: it was a- 
midst the ranks of the Hastati : the gaiety of 
youth appeared on every countenance: *' To- 
morrow," said one .of these, " to-morrow I 
shaH see a battle : Germanicus shall be convinc- 
ed that, vrhatever our fathers may say, the race 
is not degenerate.'* 

"Do you think," answered another, ^' that 
Scipio Africanus ever fought better dian our 
Ceesar ? and why should not we follow his ex- 
ample? was there ever a general wh6 threw the 
javdin, or whirled' the discus, or led the Pyrrhic 
dance like Germanicus ? a thousand times I have 
tried in vain to imit^e his agility: he is' our 



173 

deader in all things. Julius was unquestionaHy 
9, great warrior, but I would fight any man 
ivlo should dare to «ay he excelled our com- 
JJE^ander." 

Germanicus then took me by the arm : '* Let 
*xs away/' said he, " for I ought undoubtedly to 
Ciontradict this soldier/' 

We then examined the tents of the Principes, 
^^nd were highly pleased with the alacrity visi- 
le amongst these warriors, who, in the vigour 
"c^f years, unite experience to strength and ac- 
%ivity; the first tent we found open was filled 
"^ith a numerous company who were drinking 
^e health of their general. 

" It would be an eternal shame," said one of 
them setting down the bowl, *' if we did not 
shew ourselves to be Romans, when- we have 
such an examjple of valour and magnanimity in 
our chief : he is foremost in every danger, and 
bears fatigue and difficulties as if he had never 
been accustomed to a life of ease and splendour. 
I had rather share the perils of Germanicus than 
foUow the triumphal car of any other com« 
mander : it is said, he might have returned last 
year to Home, and it is certain a triumph ha« 
already b^n decreed him, but I honour hit 
perseveranee, and long for to-morrow. Surely 



174 

Arminius will give us an opportunity of shewing 
that we detest his perfidy^ and burn to revenge 
the death of our feltow-soldiers. Who would 
regret his life when he sees what honours Ger- 
manicus has paid to the memory of the legions 
that fell with Varus?" 

*' Did you ever hear of his generosity to me?" 
exclaimed a young man who was writing in the 
corner of the tent ; " the wife, to whom I am 
addressing these lines, whom I love more than 
my life, and almost equally with my duty, is a 
present of Germanicus. In the first battle we 
fought in this country, he observed I was so 
careless of my safety that I seemed to invite the 
enemy's sword: he chid my temerity, and I 
^ frankly owned to him that I was tired of my ex- 
istence. 'My poverty* said I, 'will not allow 
me to obtain the consent of Martins, to whose 
daughter I have been long attached ; he declares 
that, unless I can prove myself possest of twenty 
thousand sestertii, she is not for me, and I have 
no more skill in pillaging than pretensions to the 
favours of fortune :' would you believe the sequel ? 
Next morning the general sent for me to his tent, 
and giving me twenty thousand sestertii, ' Here,* 
said he, * Caius Libo, receive this sum, and with 
it the consent of Martins. I hope for the future 



'/ • 



175 

you will take more care of your life, not only 
for the love of the republic, but likewise for that 
of Martia/ Oh, I will now guard my life, but 
only that I may shed my blood drop by drop in 
the service of Germanicus and my country." 

The chief was affected, and walked hastily 
forward to the tents of the Triarii: we found 
these hardy veterans burnishing their armour, 
and sharpening their swords, " If we fight to- 
morrow, as I hope," said one pf them, '^ it will 
be the fifteenth battle I shall have seen, and 
never had I better omens of success. I am not 
devoted to young generals, but ours has only 
the graces and activity of youth : he has all the 
wisdom and prudence of the maturest warriors : 
I served long under his father, the renowned 
Drusus, but I think his 3on is no way inferior 
to him. Did you observe with what vigilant 
attention he directed our passage of the river ?" 

"Servilius," replied one of his companions, 
f I have often told you that he knows the life 
and actions of every individual in his army : he 
could give you a more distinct account than 
myself of the battle, or siege, where I got each 
of these wounds. In the beginning of the win- 
ter, while I was confined with those I received, 
when Csecina was attacked by the Germans, he 
came to visit me, sat down beside my couch, ask* 



i 176 

I ed me if I wanted asBistanoe^ and taking up lay 
j shield^ which I had neglected to remove when 
he entered, he counted the fragments of wea^ 
pons that remained in it. ' Crastinus/ said he, 
'this shield is more honourable than the statioa 
in which I am placed: my friend, attend care- 
fully to your preservation, such men as you sup- 
port the reputation of our fathers, and excite the 
emulation of their sons.' 

'* How exemplary is his conduct !" interrupted 
a third, '* he is not infected with the notions of 
the times: he ascribes his successes to the pro- 
tection of Heaven and to the bravery of his 
troops : his modesty is equal to his valour ; his 
friends are chosen among the most virtuous, and 
the most distinguished characters: not a syco- 
phant, not a parasite is to be seen in his com- 
pany. Was there ever such a father, such a 
husband ? To-morrow he will, see how well he 
is beloved.** 

Hence we entered the middle way, and in- 
spected the pavilions of the cavalry. Military 
ardour was visible in the countenances of all 
these young warriors ; they seemed impatient for 
the approaching fight, and some were tracing 
the descent of their general from the famous 
conqueror of Asdrubal. 

" Tb« Visurgis,'* said they, " will not yield in 



f 



celebrity to tbe Metauras ;* the Claudian fatnfljf 
^W^ ever a race of heroes^ and Germanicus id 
t^eir noblest ornament: \vhat majesty in his 
:^gtire! what elegance in his mfemners!** 

^ I have heard my fkther remark/* subjoined- 

^ttc of the company, *' that Antonia the worthy 

^yarent of our leader had inherited the virtue of 

licr mother Octavia,t and the beauty of hfer 

:ikther Marc Anthony: surely Germanicus has 

united in his person aU the endowments of his 

ancestors." 

'^ These young knights/* whispered the chieC 

^ see every thing in the fairest light ; but they 

will attack the enemy with as much spirit as 

^ they praise their general. Let us hear what the 

tribunes are saying." 

We found many of them assembled in the tent 
of Caius Albinius, who gave this evening a mag« 
nificent supper. We would not advance too near, 
lest we should be known by the attending servants : 
however, we heard some of the officers commend 
the early opening of the campaign, others the 
passage of the river, all expressing their hopes 

* A river of Italy, now called Metro. Cluveriii6. . . 

t Sister of Aagostns, first married to marcellus, after- 
wards to Marc Anthony. 
Vol I. N 



17a 

that the next day might produce a decisive hattle* 
Two, who were placed nearest to the entrance of 
the tent, were observing what weather the even* 
ing seemed to promise,- and taking notice of the 
brightness of Arcturus, and the elevation -of the 
polar star, one of- them ^ asked his companion 
whether he had read the excellent translation made 
by Germanic us of the astronomy of Aratus.* A 
general conversation then ensuedy which wholly 
turned on the literary acquirements, and scienti- 
iic knowledge of the chiefs all agreed that his 
name would be as distinguished as that of- Julius 
Caesar, if the genius of Rome preserved his life foe 
the glory of the republic. 

Germanicus turned away, and as we were near 
the Prsetorium, he proposed retiring to his tent4 
*'As for the young noblemen,'* said hej "who 
like you, are under my, immediate inspection, 
their sentiments and valour are known to me, and 
I will not listen to the private conversation of my 
friends/' 

I was about to answer, when we heard one of 
the enemy calling to the centinels on duty in a 
voice not unknown to me : we threw off our man- 
tles and ran towards the outworks; while most of 

* This work is still extant 



fc 



179. 

e soldiers^ Jvho were encamped on the westerfi 
l.de> leil th^ii: tents, and looked to see what was 
e reason of this parley. It was a Cheniscan 
>i£i. hprseb9ck9 followed by a few others who had 
dvfu^iced almost under, our lines, and insolently 
ddii^ssing our soldiers, in the Latin language, of- 
4E^i^e4 them, on the part of Arminius, wives, pos-. 
^b^ssions, . and a hundred sestertii for each man 
'^Lhat would by desertion save himself from im- 
^^pending ruin. .. I recollected the voice to be that 
-^pf Moryen, the youth who had been the chief 
^;ai}se of the death of Cariovaldas, by opposing 
Aim in the election of a commander. Our sol- 
^ie^ fired with indignation, answered unani-^ 
anously that they hailed the omen, and would 
:Tender themselves masters of the wives, posses- 
sions, and fortunes of the Germans. 

Our leader doubled the guards, and every 
thing was prepared, in case Arminius should at- 
tempt to storm our intrenchments : he advanced 
with that intention, but found all in such good 
prder to receive him, that he did not think it 
pirudent to persist in his design. 

German icus expressed to me the highest satis- 
faction at the sentiments he had perceived in his 
troops. " Marcus!" said he, "how great would 
be my felicity if I could obtain a victory without 



the loss of one of iAaese brave men ! hovir viKngly 
wotild I afkr up tny life for sudi a covisidBra^ 
tion r 

When I left the general I could aot help re-« 
fleeting, with disquietude, on the appearance of 
Mofven. Sigismar would never share the favouri 
of his prince with one of the murderers of his 
father: what can have been the fate of that ^cm- 
happy youth? These thoughts have long per- 
plexed and distressed me; they at leng^ give 
way to the pleasing hope of victory, and I flatter 
myself that my next letter will inform 3FOU of our 
success. It is late, and, as our army will be 
drawn out to battle by sun rise^ I must dedicate 
the rest of the night to repose. 



f 



im 



LETTER XXXIV* 

Triumphant joy resounds diroughout 
the camp t the pursuit of the enemy has taken up 
great part of the day, but I cannot resist passing 
the evening in relating ta you this important 
event. 

At break of day, after the usual sacrifices had 
been performed, and hope and intrepidity, 
more ciertain omens of success, than ail the au- 
gurs can determine^ shone in every countenance, 
6ur leader formed his army in a line of battle on 
lihe plain called Idistavisus, between the Visurgis 
and hills shaded with wood, which form an am- 
phitheatre round the meander of the river. 

Arminius had drawn out his troops: they co- 
vered an immense space of ground; part of them 
took possession of the opposite side of the plain, 
and the rest were stationed at the entrance of the 
iroods. The whole of the ground, on which we 

* TacitWi Book 2. 



were to fights was interspersed with trees at un- 
equal distances^ and entangled with shrubs and 
brambles. Our general ei^orted his soldiers to 
overcome with fortitude all the difficulties of si- 
tuation, and to be unmoved at the superiority of 
number. He represented to them that the 
enemy^ who had to fight on the same spot, could 
derive no advantage from the inequality of the 
ground, but on the contrary would suffer greater 
inconveniences from the immense size pf their 
shields, the length of their lances and other cir-r 
cumstances relative to their arms which woulcl. 
pmba^ass them amongst the branches. He 
added, that no comparison was to be made, be -r 
tweei^ their impetuosity, and the firm and manly 
behaviour of a I^oman army; he observed that 
neither their minds nor bodies were accustoine4 
\o resist a continuation of labour, and that if they 
did not conquer at the first onset, they had nei<? 
ther perseverance, nor fear of shame ; that their 
want of subordination n^ade them neglectful of. 
the orders of their general, and that ferocity^ 
more than a sentiment of honour, impelled them 
to action ; that in adverse fortune they were mean 
.and timorous, and in prosperity despisers .of a(l 
laws divine and human ; insolently proud of their 
successes, and cruel to thc^e whotn they had sub-? 



183 

* * * t ■ 

dued. He bad his soldiers consider that we were 
how in the heart of Grermany, and nearer to the 
Albis than the Rhine ; he therefore advised th^m 
to put an end to their long labours, and complete 
their dear bought glory by one decisive exertion, 
conjuring them to remember the victories of his 
father Drusus, in whose steps he hoped to lead 
them to immortal fame. 

The spirited and persuasive oratory, so natu- 
ral to Germanicus, was scarcely wanted on this 
occasion ;• the soldiers longed ardently to engage, 
and our line was formed in this manner. 

The Gallic and German auxiliaries were placed 
in the front, after them the archers on foot ; four 
legions, next Caesar himself with two praetorian 
<i;ohorts and the select cavalry, amongst whom 
was your friend : behind us the four other legions 
with the light armed troops, the archers on horse- 
back and the renlaining cohorts of the allies. 

In this order we were to maintain the fight ; 
but Caesar, perceiving that Arminius had placed 
his Cheruscans on the opposite hill, with an in- 
tention from this advantageous situation to break 
in upon our army; and seeing them advance 
with fury to the attack, he sent a body of hors^ 
to flank them, and Stertinius with the rest to sur- 
round or take them in the rear. At this instant hap* 



184 

pened a singular circumstance which CQi|iribute4 
to raise the spirits of our troops ; eight eag^ ap^ 
peared above our heads, and directed their f&fgiitiL 
into the neighbouring wood : the general poi];ijte4 
them out to his soldiers, and animated them to 
follow the birds of Rome* the deities of the le*? 
gions, to victory and fame. In the moment of 
enthusiasm, even the most rational minds ^r^ 
not insensible to such an appearance ; and with- 
out some idea of supernatural impulse, I quea- 
tion whether the generality of soldiers could re- 
sist the fatigue and dangers to which they are 
perpetually exposed. The ardour was universal, 
and victory soon declared in our favour: it 
was wonderful to behold the confusion of the 
enemy: those who were embattled on the plain 
fled into the woods, and they who had been 
posted in the woods took their flight towsgrds th$ 
plain. We drove the Cheruscans from the hill; 
Arminius, though wounded, displayed indefati- 
gable courage; with hand ^nd voice he long sus- 
tained the combat, and falling ou our archers^ 
would have routed them^ if X had not fortunately 
been near to encourage the auxiliaries: with 
t^eir assistance we drove him from the field be-, 
fore the rest of the horse advanced. I w^ 
greatly mortified that we cpuld not madi;e him 



our pi^isoner; both he and his uncle Iiig<miar« 
formerly a^ friend to tho Roin«(n8« but seduced by 
Arminiiis to desert their c^use^ found meaos to 
escape by disfiguriug tbe^r faces with the blood 
that flowed from their wounds; so at ka^ it ia 
iinagined; but I suspect that soniQof our Qer*^ 
nian allies recognized their featijires and sufiei^ 
them to pass. Had our Gayahy> who fottow^^ 
the flying Qheruscans^ been able to come up i^ 
time, we should not have suffered Aroi^imus to 
escape ; but I and a few companions, ^bc499i thfS 
desire of meeting him in arms had sep^ated from 
the rest, found our attention engaged in saving 
the arc^hen^. The enemy was totaUy defeased ; 
many threw themselves ioito the river* am* wer© 
lost in its waves, or deSftroyed by our s^iera ; 
the carnage was dreadful ; for the space qf teu 
miles the ground was covered with dead bodies, 
and the pursuit lasted from the fifth hour till the 
close of day. The archers, who would have been 
cut to pieces, if we had not flown to their assist- 
ance, satiated their revenge on those of the 
enemy who took refuge in the trees and endea- 
voured to hide themselves in the branches. As 
soon as I perceived it, I put an end to this cruel 
sport, and commanded they should be made 
prisoners. Trophies were erected on the field of 



186 

battle with the arms of the conquered nations^ 
and their names written under them. The ariny^ 
at the desire of Germanicus, saluted Tiberius 
Imperator ; an honour which he himself had bet- 
ter deserved, his conduct throughout the action 
being that of a brave soldier and able general. 
He has bestowed numerous rewards on those who 
have merited them, and has honoured me wilh 
peculiar distinctions in consequence of my being 
so fortunate as to withstand the last efforts of 
Arminius. 

Thank Heaven, our loss has been very inconsi- 
derable, though the Germans were so sanguine in 
tjieir hopes. of success, that they had brought 
with them store of chains to bind their expected 
prisoners ; all of which were found amongst the 
spoils. 



187 



LETTER XXXV* 

1 HE love of independence, and the deter- 
mined bravery of these nations, are worthy ad- 
miration : not the losses they sustained in the late 
battle, not all their hardships and distresses, 
excited their grief and indignation so much as 
the sight of the trophies erected by our army on 
the field of Idistavisus. They had determined 
to transport themselves beyond the River Albis, 
and to leave for ever to the Romans their 
, country and their household gods; but this 
sight has roused their fury, and they are resol- 
ved once more to collect their scattered forces. 
I>ecrepid and infant warriors run to join the 
standard of their leader, and soon we may ex- 
pect an engagement still more desperate than 
the last. 

Our general knows all their counsels, counter- 
acts all their stratagems, and with a perseverance 
fmd intrepidity, worthy of himself, prepares to 

* Tacitusy Book 2. 



188 

meet the rising storm. He has received letters 
from Tiberius entreating him to return home as 
soon as possible, and in the mean while exhorting 
him to act only on the defensive : he reminds 
him of the advantages he himself obtanied by this 
method of making war, and enumerates the na- 
tions reduced by him to the obedience of the Ro- 
mans. But German icus is too wise not to per- 
ceive the insidious policy of the emperor, and too 
brave to change that system which has already 
acquired him so much honour, and promises a 
full completion of his glory. 

We are now on our march along the banks 
of the river, and expect shortly to come up with 
the enemy. 

My anxiety for Valerius is considerably in- 
creased; the messenger, who arrived last from 
Rome, brings me no answer to the letters I have 
sent : if my duty and the friendship of Germani* 
cus did not employ my thoughts^ and drive from 
my imagination the melancholy ideas which too of- 
ten intrude themselves, wretched indeed were n^y 
situation. The joys of victory and the happi- 
ness of revisiting my native country will,, 1, fear^ 
be greatly embittered! I wait with impatience 
for the consolation your letters always afford 
me. 



L 



18^ 

^ Among the number of prisoners whom we took 
:iiour last action, not one of the Cheruscans 
)iild give me any intelligence of Sigismar. I be- 
in to fear he has fallen a victim to the treachery 
f Morven ; and the esteem, heightened by gra- 
"^itude, which I must ever entertain for this excel- 
^nt young man, excites in me the deepest afflio* 
^on. Nothing so much raises our compassion 
as to see a noble and enlightened mind sur* 
rounded with those who cannot understand, and 
still less set a just value on its worth ; such is 
the state of Sigismar, if he still exists; but» 
alas ! it is too probable my friend may be n^ 
more. 



•** 



m 



- LETTER XXXVL* 

'We have had a day of fatigue^ but conquest 
has smiled on our labours, and they will not be 
forgotten in the annals of Rome. 

The leader of the Germans, after harrassing our 
inarch, selected for the field of battle a place en- 
closed on one side by the river, and on the other' 
by an immense forest. In the midst is a narrow 
and marshy plain, the woods are also wholly sur^ 
rounded by a deep morass, except on one side^ 
where the Angrivariansf formerly raised a lofty 
rampart to defend their boundaries from the Che- 
ruscans. Here Arminius stationed his infantry, 
concealing his cavalry in the neighbouring woods, 
that they might attack our legions in the rear 
when we had entered the forest. All this was 
known to CsBsar ; he examined the ground, and 
frustrated the designs of the enemy, by turning 

• Tacitus, Book 2. 

t AngrivarianSy iDhabitants of the neighbourhood of 
Minden. 



igi 

tkem to their destruction/ He gave to the k- .' 
gate Tubero -the command of the cavalry,' 
which he stationed on the plain, and embattled ' 
the infantry in such a manner, as that part of 
them ^ould ent^r the w6od in security, and the 
rest attack the mound : this most arduous part of 
the duty he took on hiftis^lf, leaving to the legates 
the more easy and leds perilous. I requested that ' 
he would permit Dae a share in his danger, to 
which he kindly consented. The Germans had 
every advantage of situatioti ; the rising gpround 
on which they were placed made it as difficult to 
s^ault them as if they had been defended by 
walls. Gennanicus felt this inconvenience; and: 
made way for the approach of his legions, by 
cpmmanding the slingers to advance, and throw- - 
ing the exkemy into disorder by every ^ecies of 
missive weapons from engines and machines. In 
the mean while I ascended the eminence, and 
was almost immediately followed by Caesar and, ^ 
the praetorian cohorts :, we took possession of the 
rampart, and having secured this important post, 
we turned our attack on the forest The battle 
lasted long, and was supported on both sides with- 
singular courage and pertinacity : our army being > 
heminedinby the river and hills, the Geimans by 
ijiarshy and impracticable grounds^ It was a com- 



bat worthj of the Romans; there was no h<^ 
bat in valour, no safety but in yictory. Oar 
leader^ in the most critical moment of the battle^ 
took off his helmet, that he might be the better 
known by his army : I followed his example, and 
we node &om place to place encouraging die troops 
and leading Uiem to break through all resistfemce. 
They seconded our wishes in the most ^stin*- 
guisbed manneii. We have subdued the enemy, 
but the victory has not been gaiiied jvithout the 
slaughter of many of our brave fellow soldiers, 
and such a carnage of the Germans as my heart 
forbids me to describe. Great even in their ruin, 
they deserve our esteem, and> I must add, our 
regr^. Arminius and Ignomar saved themselves 
by flight, but not till they found every effbrt was 
fruitless, and the ground strewed wi& the bodied 
of their bratest foflowers. Germanicus, when he 
perceived that we were masters of the field, sent' 
o^a legion to form the camp; the rest pursued 
tifi night the flying enemy. 

Our prisoners are but few> for it was impossible 
to save the lives of many in so weorm an action ; 
and in order to put an aid to the war> our general 
f^md it necessary to give such orders as were -re- 
pugnant to his foelings; but no sooner had ^ vie*- 
tory restored coolness to the mind, than all #ho^ 



193 , 

^^^'^^ down their arms were spared : the numher 
^*^^«;e is very inconsiderable^ and not a Che- 
to be found among them. 
i; Septimius^ who know what a satisfaction 
soldier experiences in so fortunate a mo- 
^^^T^ *'*''^^ can feel for our joy, and will partake of it. 
^^ -- ^Knessenger, whom Germanicus dispatches 
.tly to Rome can no longer delay his depar- 
I must therefore bid you farewell, and am 
med to think how long it W^ill be before this 
Ikgence can reach you in lUyria. 



\ 



Vol. I. 



)y4 



LETTER XXXVII * 

t 

Your letter, my dear Septimitis, lias made 
me inexpressibly happy ; the troubles in Itlyria 
give you an opportunity of signalizing your cou- 
rage, and diminish the regret 1 feel for your not 
sharing in our triumph. Germanicus lias caused 
a marble trophy to be erected with the following 
inscription: — 

THE ARMY OF TIBERIUS CiESAR, HAVING 
SUBDUED ALL THE NATIONS THAT 

DWELL BETWEEN THE RHINE AND ALBIS, 

CONSECRATE THlS MONUMENT TO 

MARS, JUPITER, AND AUGUSTUS. 

Of himself he made no mention, whether from 
a dislike of exciting the jealousy of Tiberius, or 
that his virtue is satisfied with the consciousness 
of having performed great actions, and prefers 
the approbation of his fellow -citizens, and the 

« Tacitus, Book 2. 



195 

{^raises of "posterity, to proud inseriptions and 
transitory honours. It should seem/- however, 
that this monument rather takes from our fame> 
than adds to it : we are not stipendiaries of Ti- 
berius, but soldiers of Germanicus, and defenders 
of our country. 

Stertinius was sent against .the Angrivarians'> 
but they immediately submitted, and all this 
part of Germany is at peace. 

Our leader, on the day after this decisive 
action, made' an affecting and grateful oration in 
praise of his army. He shed tears when he spoke 
of those wtio fdi in the action, and returned 
thanks to the survivors with that eloquence which 
makes the warmest impression, because it flows 
from the heart. He has again distinguished me 
with pecuHar honours, and has presented me 
with a Vallarian crown, for having first ascended 
and taken possession of the mound. I have every 
reason to think that my fellow-soldiers join their 
suffrage to that of their general. Surely, Septi- 
mius, we may enjoy the distinctions of fame, 
when neither our own heart nor the public voice 
reproaches us with want of desert. I do not 
mean but that German icus may have over- rated 
my services: and I am sensible that his indul- 
g^ence sets too high a value on actions which were 



« . 



196 

only the result of my duty, and on successes whic& 
are to be ascribed, no less to the favour of fortune 
than to my own exertions ; but , after passing so- 
much time with involuntary indolence, after so 
long and so ardently wishing to appear once 
more with honour in the Roman ranks, I should 
have despaired indeed if my actions had not been 
equal, or perhaps superior to theirs, who have,. 
during my absence, uninterruptedly distinguished 
themselves in the service of their country. 

To-morrow we Embark on the river Amisia, 
and shall retiim by the ocean to our winter quar- 
ters : a few of the legions are to march through 
the country. 

Germanicus has now a certain prospect of 
completing, in the ensuing summer, the pacifi - 
cation of these regions: we shall then revisit 
Rome, where I hope to find the best of frieiids — 
but what is become of Valerius ? My imagination 
recoils from the dreadful suspicions which it forms 
—-Caesar has received letters from Greece : no 
mention is made in them of my uncle^ I wait, 
with unusual impatience, for the information 
which you endeavour to obtain. May you be ' 
more successful than I dare to hope ! 



197 



LETTER XXXVIII* 

1 HE nominal misfortunes of this world, my 
friend, scarcely deserve the pompous consolations 
which philosophers have devised for them. The 
brave may consider that death is ever so near, 
that no man need be apprehensive of long con- 
tinuance in affliction ; while they who set more 
value on life than on any other blessing, may re- 
flect that danger is not always followed by de- 
struction, and that perhaps the moment of safe- 
ty is approaching when inevitable peril seems 
to hang over them. 

I neither fear death nor affliction, and am 
therefore nearly indifferent to whatever affects 
me only personally, but I sincerely regret the loss 
of many brave men who have perished in the 
storm, of which I heartily wish you may not 
have received any intelligence before this letter 
reaches Ulyria. 

The wind was at first in our favour, and the 

* Tacitus, Book 9. 



196 

calm and placid ocean appeared proud to bear 
our thousand vessels, driven by our spreading 
sails, or impelled forward by our hardy rowers. 
Nothing could be more truly sublime, nor, at the 
same time^ n>ore pleasing than the sight: gar- 
lands of victory hung fluttering on every mast, 
while mirth and festivity re-echoed through the 
fleet. But soon a dreadful tempest arose and 
dispersed our ships ; the soldiers, unaccustomed 
to • this element, embarrassed the mariners, 
equally by their fearfCil confusion, and importu- 
nate assistance. A wide and unknown sea was 
before us: around were hostile shores, or unin- 
habited^ islands ; a sky more dark than a native 
of Hesperia COtild imagine; an ocean whose 
inountsiinoirs billows seemed prodigies to many 
v(rho had without fear braved the Tyrrhenian bil- 
lows. Such a prospect might easily strike terror 
into men elated with success, and impatient to 
enjoy the honourable fruits of it. All was dis- 
traction, and the few German auxiliaries, who 
wefe embarked with us, added to the consterna- 
tion and diStoay, by pretending that they saw 
the Gods of their country riding in the storm, 
and inciting the winds and waves to punish our 
bold intrusion. Some of our people were terri- 
fied, and others enraged at these superstitious ex- 



1^ 



1(99 

r^amaiions; but fl^w wev^ sufficiently masters of. 
lem^elves to disregard them. Prayers^ menaces, 
^^chortations were lost in air; ,in vain did y^^ 
"^rnind tbein q( theijp wonted covurage ; ftey 
in&wered t^ey did not £ear de^th^ but couUJ not 
to perish ingloripusly : as if glory weUe pot 
-^squ^Uy the portion of suffering fortitude an<,^ 
-^active valour. Indeed^ Septicnius, I have always 
-^xbserved that it is far easier to find those who will 
^lw)Wiy meet deatb> than those who will intrepidly 
~^ait his approach. The storm^ 93 if assisted by 
the tumuH and .despair of the crew, increased to 
such a ^gree> that all hope of safety seemed to 
be at an end. We threw overboard our arms, 
horses, and every thing that proved an unneces- 
sary burden to the ships. On board the Trireme, 
where I was embarked with German icus, we 
indeed maintained some discipline, and after 
being driven out to sea, and long tossed by the 
^ winds and waves, we at length succeeded in di- 
recting our course to the shores of our allies the 
Cbaucans.* Here I found the advantage of having 
passed some time in savage regions and desert in- 
digence: my knowledge of their customs and 

« 



• Inhabitants of the.country between Bremen and Min- 
den. Cluverius. Their dominions must- have extended 
still farther than Bremen along the sea coast. 



200' 

language enabled me to find resources for our 
leader and his followers when they were on the 
brink of yielding to fatigue, and "despaired of re- 
covering from their losses. I animated their 
drooping spirits, and directed the natives to assist 
them in refitting our vessels, and procuring pro- 
visions and other necessaries of life ; but I had 
much more difficulty to calm the mind of Ger- 
manicus. He accused himself of being the au- 
thor of all these misfortunes, and passed the days 
and nights in the rocks which hang over the sea, 
looking out in vain for his scattered fleet, and ex- 
claiming that he was guilty of the miserable death 
of so many brave > men, who had exposed their 
lives in his service, and for his honour. On the 
third morning, when he could perceive no sail on 
the wide horizon, his despair was so great that he 
would have cast himself into the ocean had I not 
forcibly prevented him. Towards evening, on 
the same day, two or three of our vessels that had 

m 

been driven on some of the neighbouring islands, 
came back in a most shattered condition ; and, 
as the sea grew calm, many others arrived, which 
we refitted as soon as possible, and sent out to 
look for the remainder of the dispersed navy. Se- 
veral of our gallies have been thus recovered, and 
others restored by the Angrivarians ; but a great 



201 



number are still missings some of which we know 
too certainly to have been sunk, and much we 
fear the rest may have met with asimiliar fate. 
What increases our difficulties, is, the effect 
which the report of our losses has had on the con- 
quered nations ; the Marsians and Cattians have 
again taken arms, and are preparing to renew the 
war. We collect arms, and horses with as much 
diligence as possible, and repair, as well as we 
are able, the damages we have sustained; but 
our numbers are greatly diminished, and our situ- 
ation is truly deplorable. 



^m 



LETTER XXXIX. 

1 H E prospect is much cleared, my dear Sep- 
timius, since I last wrote. Many of our ships, 
which had been cast on the enemy's shores, have 
been retaken, and the prisoners redeemed by the 
Angrivarians : but what has afforded us un- 
speakable satisfaction, is the recoyery of ^he 
Prajtorian cohorts, part of the select cavalry, 
and a great number of Roman knights who 
were missing. 

As Germanicus and myself were yesterday 
taking our usual walk on the beach, after 
visiting the workmen employed in refitting the 
ships, we observed a considerable fleet in the 
horizon, and we passed the whole day in watch- 
ing it's motions, and endeavouring to distinguish 
the vessels. A favourable wind, towards evening, 
brought them near enough to satisfy us with the 
assurance, that amongst the number there were 
many Roman gallies and transports. 

We rose this morning before day, and receiv- 
ed from the centinels the welcome intelligence. 



1105 

i^bast th€ fleet tre hdd seen the precediti^ night 
wa» safe in harbour, and prored to be the troops 
I kare mentioned escorted bj aeveral:^ British 
▼esseH whose commander had that moment sent 
Cftt shore to irequest an audience of Csesar. Im- 
patient to see the friends whbm be had so long 
deplored as lost, Germanicus prepared to receive 
their generous conductor* Scarcely had the sun 
sippeared, when a long train of Britons entered 
the campi bearing presents for our leaderj, and 
am immense quantity of provisions for his army. 
These Mf^re followed by the Roman officers and 
soldiers who had been saved from shipwreck ; and 
last. Our eyes were attracted by the venerable 
figure of the British commander, led by two 
beautiful youths, and attended by three hundred 
i^arriors. Dignity and benevolence were blend- 
ed in his aspect,' which, though furrowed by 
more than eighty winters, retained all those 
graces and animation which time, and the vicis- 
situdes of life, too often extinguish. Germanicus 
rticeived him at the door of his pavilion, and led 
him to the inner apartment. After presenting 
the iEloman officers to their ciiief the Briton in- 
terrupted the effusions of his gratitude by ad- 
^resskig him nearly in these terms : 

• Tacitus, Book 2. » 



204 

" Caesar ! a name I never pronounce without 
the profoundest respect, you see before you Man- 
dubratius,''^ king of the Trinobantians : my fa- 
ther Imanuentius, the friend and guardian of his 
country, jealous of its honour, and watchful over 
its felicity, constantly resisted the seduction of 
the Gauls, whose interested views long tended to 
engage our nation in the support of their rebel- 
lion against tlie Romans, by assisting them in an 
unjust and ruinous war. Cassivelaunus, and ma- 
ny of the inferior princes, induced by restless 
ambition, avidity of gain, or false alarms for 
their own safety, joined in the league, and used 
every effort to prevail on the mind pf Imanueh- 
tius. His unshaken resistance excited the epmity 
of Cassivelaunus, who attacked our dominions, 
laid waste our fields, and, aided by a superiority 
of number too powerful to be withstood, entered 
our capital, and murdered my father. These 
eyes were witnesses of the horrid deed ! A few 
warriors, attached to their sovereign, and at that 
time hopeless of revenging his death, conjured 
me to consult my own safety, and the future wel- 
fare of my country, rather than give myself up 

* Mandubratius, king of the Trinobantians. Csesar's 
Commentaries de Bello Gallico, Book 5. Julius Caesar 
was in Britain in the year of Rome^ 700. 



fi05 

to affliction and despair. I was then very 
young : they conveyed me on hoard a vessel, and 
fled with me to the illustrious Caesar, who was 
pursuing his conquests in Gaul. With what be- 
nignity did he receive me! With what paternal 
goodness did he calm my sorrows, and revive my 
hopes ! With what excellent precepts did he 
form my youthful heart to magnanimity and 
fortitude ! In him I found a second father, and, 
if I may permit myself the expression, an aveng- 
ing Deity, who rescued myself and my subjects 
from barbarous oppression. I accompanied him 
into Britain, where my people, whose loyalty had 
never wavered, sent deputies to my heroic pro- 
tector, and, promising to obey his dictates, de- 
sired to see me re-instated on my throne, and de- 
fended from the insults of Cassivelaunus. We 
swore, and will for ever maintain inviolable fide** 
lity to the Romans. Caesar, my generous, my 
beloved benefactor, after defeating Cassivelaunus 
and his allies, granted them peace on this con- 
dition alone*, that they should never molest the 
Trinobantians, or their prince. He. left me to^ 
enjoy the fruits of his beneficence, and to live in 
admiration of his virtues. Life, dignity, and 
honour,, my own happiness, and, what is far 
dearer to me, that of my people^ all, all I owe 



t06 

to your victodous ancestor : and I pour forth my 
fervent thanks to Heaven for having prolonged 
my existence to an unusual date^ that I migbt 
see the moment in which I could^^ in some mea* 
sure, testify my gratitude to the Romans, and 
to the Cseaarian family. -Accept these gifts, and 
deem ihem not inconsiderable, since <the power 
of bestowing them was conferred by Caesar. 
Permit your soldiers to share these fruits : the 
trees "from which they spring were planted by his 
anny ; those animals received their nourishment 
from the verdant pastures which the destructive 
Cassivelaunus had blasted with the horrors of 
war, but which the appearance of the godlike 
Caesar, and his victorious^ troops, restored to their 
wonted peace. 

f' Accept, German icus, a tribute whi^hservik 
adulation never offered: the Britons idolize 
their liberty, but they are not less attached to 
justice and to gratitude : formidable, but not im- 
placable enemies, they are the, most steady and 
most constant of allies. 

*^ When the late tempest drove so many of 
your brave soldiers on our coasts, we lamented 
their misfortunes, 'but we jojrfuUy embraced this 
occasion of convincing you that we are worthy 
of your friendship, and sensible of your former 



507 

kmdnefi^ Miaiy out* ^xant]^ inetnict other na- 
tions to tegped >tibe "sacred ieufce of >tre8itieB ! May 
tbey learn "from ^B never to 'tai&e up apRis against 
their 'benefactors ! Stea% assei^ters of ^ur Tights, 
the €Oui^ge/^eh whidh Heaven has endowed ns 
disdains to.be employed in vain or seditious en- 
itei^vi^^ : Me never 'draw'lhe sword but for jus- 
^ lice: we never sheath it 'but in victory. 

" I have dwelt with {Pleasure, ^Germanicus, on 
"your praises. I Avould not Close my eyes before 
^I^had beheld the worthiest imitator of the hero 
^hose name you 'bear: his image is ever present 
to my mind, and 1 wish 'to imprint it on that bf 
my children, by shewing them the man whose 
virtues most resemble those of my protec- 
tor." 

At this moment the two youths, who are 
his grandsons, advanced, and Germanicus em- 
braced them with every demonstration of regard. 
We were all struck with admiration at the ap- 
pearance and conversation of the venerable king 
of the Trinobantians : he distinguishes me with 
particular affection, because he remembers my 
grandfather amongst the chiefs who served with 
Caesar, and retraces in my features something 
which reqalls him to his memory. 

Germanicus has prevailed with him to stay 



208 

a few days in the camp^ and treats him in the 
most splendid manner. His grandsons have all 
the candour of youth, and the spirit of heroism; 
they are under no restraint in the society of Man- 
duhratius, but his words are their oracles, and' his 
will is their law. 

The officers and soldiers, who are returned 
with him, relate wonders of the kindness and at- 
tention which have been shewn them : they say 
they have experienced all the charms of a frank 
and artless hospitality, equally distinct from the 
importunate, civility of some of the neighbouring 
Rations, and the blunt rusticity of others. 



209 



LETTER XL. 

xJuR respectable ally has this morning re- 
embarked with his followers, and the whole ar- 
my regret his departure. Germanicus accom- 
panied him to the sea shore, and none but the 
centinels remained in the camp, so general was 
the love and esteem he had iexcited. I have 
^ever quitted him during his stay here, and 
his grandsons have conceived a particular at- 
tachment* for me : they have engaged him to 
promise they shall accept the invitation which 
Germanicus has given them to visit him at 
Rome. 

Our general presented arms to the British 
warriors; to each of the youths a sword, en- 
riched with jewels, and the most magnificent 
suits of armour he had saved fron> the storm : 
to Mandubratius he gave various trophies taken 
from the enemies, and the moment before the 
venerable prince stept into the boat, Germani- 
cus, embracing him tenderly, took from his fin- 
ger a gem, on which was the portrait of Julius 

Vol. I. p 



Caesar, and begged him to wear it in remem- 
brance of his friend,, and of the son of Drusus. 

This Was too much for MandubratiusTheldss- 
ed a thousand times the respected image ; then 
pressed Germ^nicus to his bosom, s^nd turning 
to me, who stood near him, caught me in his 
arms. At length raising his eyes to heaven, ^nd 
fervently praying for every blessing to be show- 
ered on the Roman people, he went on board 
' hb galley, which slowly rowed from shorje, while 
scarcely one of us quitted the coast till the fleet 
was out of sight. 

Our forces being now assembled, and our men 
having recovered their fatigue, Germanicus^ not- 
withstanding the approach of winter, is de- 
termined to quell the insurrection encouraged by 
the report of his losses ; and sends Caius Silius, 
with thirty thousand foot, and three thousand 
horse, into the territory of the Cattians, while 
he, with more considerable numbers^ makes au 
inroad on the lands of the Marsians. 

We learn from one of their chiefs, who lately 
submitted to our arms, that aiiother of the ea- 
gles, belonging to our unfortunate legions, is 
buried under ground, and guarded by a party 
of the bravest Marsians.''^ I have besought Ger« 

* Th^ recovery of the ejftgl^ from Tacitns^ Book i. 



211 

swufiicus to intrust me with the command of the 
forces which he sends to recover it: an expe- 
idition indeed worthy of an older warrior.; but 
my past misfortunes have given me some right to 
claim this honour; and our general not only 
complies with the request,- but permits me to 
choose my partners in the enterprise. 

At the instant in which I am writing, three 
letters from you have been brought me. My 
friend, how can I sufficiently testify my thank- 
fulness for the part you take in all my concerns, 
for your generous resolution of sacrificing the 
pleasure you might have experienced in visiting 
Rome this whiter, to the intention of making a 
journey through Greece in quest of Valerius. 
You say that your vicinity to that country faci- 
litates the scheme. What does not friendship 
and beneficence render easy? 

Ilearn the prevailing opinion at Rome is, that 
my uncle, disgusted with the present govern- 
ment, has retired with his daughter to some re- 
mote and solitary retreat, either in Achaia or 
Thessaly. Those of his friends, who are in our 
army, seem to adopt this opinion; all but 
Csecina, who is not at present with us, having 
been sent with the legions by land; but he 
writes to me that be is too well acquainted with 



31 



212 

I 

the principles of Valerius,, to suppose he would 
voluntarily abandon his country, when his coun- 
sels and assistance are most wanted. There is^ 
indeed no reason to doul)t but he embarked at 
Brundusium. 



2,1$ 



LETTER XU* 

JMy expedition in quest of the eagle> which 
succeeded to every wish^ has gained me some in- 
telligence of the unfortunate Sigismar. When 
the party^ under my command, arrived at the 
place which had been pointed out to us> I detach- 
ed half my number with orders to. encompass the 
spot where our ensign was interred, while, with 
the remainder, I attacked the enemy and drew 
them from the contested ground. They made an 
obstinate resistance; but our efforts were at 
length successful, and we carried off the eagle in 
triumph to Germanicus. 

Amongst the prisoners taken in this skirmish, 
there was a Marsian of note, with whom I enter- 
ed into conversation^ as he seemed well acquaint- 
ed with the Cheruscans, having served in the al- 
lied army, and being nearly connected with Ar- 
minius. He informed me that Morven was kill** 
ed m the first battle fought on the boi^ders of the 

* Taci'tns, Book 2. 



214 

Visurgis ; diat he had heen in high favour with 
Arminius^ and commanded the hody of troops, 
formerly led by Cariovaldas. On my enquiring 
further into the cause of this change of senti- 
ments in the prince^ the Marsian replied^ that 
during the winter Arminius had visited the terri- 
tories of tbe^ late CariovaldaB> with an ititenlion 
of punishing tikMe subjecls> ifho> b« had been 
informed, were in rebellion against their chief ^ 
but lilat on^ hi& arrival all h^d' submitted to hia 
Biercy, andyby the counsete of a- stranger namr 
ed< PhillDGles> offered every atonement ft^ra crime 
into which they were driven by the temerity of 
their deceased chief : tbat Arminius was appea»>- 
ed by their 8ubmis8ion> havings upon a-ftiller-eD*- 
quiry into the motives of their past conduct, 
found them to originate in a deference for the 
priests on one hand, and- for Cttriovaldas on the 
othen ** These motives/' said the Misursian, 
*^ appeared^ worthy of his- cliemency ; the peopte 
Tetumedto their duty, and' Philocks and Mbr- 
ven, who had always^ opposed the fdrmer- chief, 
became the first fovourites- of Arminitji^, who> of- 
fended- with the different representation of Sigia- 
mar, withdrew^ his countenance from the ybutfa 
and deprived him of his father's possessions : 
nevertheless, Sigismar, being of acknowledged 



did 

hftsvefy, retflihs hiis rank in ilie armyr, a^d has 
signalized himself ih afl our combats by^ a valour 
itpproaching to rtohn^s^ ; but is no longper one of 
the companions of Atfminius. This apparent 
disgrace afiects him so deeply that he shuns 
all intercourse with his oouhtrymen> and has alt- 
ways fought in the ranks of the Bructerians. 
Riilocles, who is well versed in the military theo- 
ry of the Greeks and Romans has been useful 
to- our leader, and by His correspondence with 
ibnl^ Adienians in th<e army of Gertnanicus, has 
often obtained that intelligence of your motions, 
which we de&pair^d of acquiring by any other 



meatiy/* 



As you know the wartntlv of my disposition, 
you will readily conceive, my dear Septimius> 
Ae indignation with which I listened to this nar- 
rative. The flight of Aitniniuff and his army, 
has n^arty destroyed every hope I itiight have 
cottcdved- to alleviate thfe present suffbrings of 
itty frietid ;- and- his^ well-known fidelity: will not 
permit me to think, of detaching him from the 
interest of the Cheruscans. The Marsian was 
ignorant of thq fate of Vercennis and Bertha ; 
but he believes the uncle of the latter did not 
join the allied forces. 

To resume the account of our miUtary opera-. 



216 

tions, I must inform you that we have indefatiga*' 
bly pursued our successes. Few of the Marsians 
have dared to make any resistance, these few 
have been easily routed: and our prisoners ac- 
knowledge thstt there never was among the Ger- 
mans so universal a terror of the Roman name. 
They consider it as- a prodigy, that men, whose 
fleet had been destroyed, their arms and horsea 
buried in the sea, and the shores covered with 
the dead bodies of their companions, should in 
so short a time repair their losses, and with 
unshaken fortitude, as it should seem, , pour 
in greater numbers upon the enemy: thej 
declare it would be madness to contend with an 
invincible people over whom fortune has no 
power. 

Caius Silius has had equal success against the 
Cattians. All being once more reduced to obedi- 
ence, and tranquillity restored, wc shall direct our 
march towards our winter quarters, whence 
my next letter will be dated. Farewell, my 
friend ! . 



317 



LETTER XLIi* 

xxERMANICUS has received such pressing; 
letters from the emperor, that he cs^n no longer 
delay his return to Rome. Tiberius insists on 
his presence to complete the celebration of his 
triumph, ;and to exercise in person the functions 
of consul, to which he offers him the next elec- 
tion ; and, if all these marks of distinction 
should have no influence, he coi\jures him at least 
to leave some enemies by whose defeat his brother 
Drusus may acquire the laurel and imperial title ; 
Germany being now the only field where dis- 
tinguished honours are to be gained. This last 
consideration has determined our general ; though^ 
I believe, he is very sensible of the artifice of 
Tiberius : for as to the Germans, it is probable 
the emperor will henceforth leave them to their 
internal dissensions. Germanicus wished for an- 
other season, to complete the pacification of the 

• Tacitus, Books. 



21* 

province^ and to establish such just and salutary 
laws^ as might give it solidity : but though this 
satisfaction has been denied him, his past actioni 
have secured to him that glory, which is beyond 
the reach of malice and envy. 

I feel a mingled sensation of joy and sorrow as 
the time approaches for revisiting my native 
country. Septimius absent; Valerius banished^ 
and perhaps fbr ever ; Aurelia united to ano&er, 
and' Tiberius on the throne ! Hbw (Afferent wert 
my expectations when I departed ! Yet one of 
my most ardent wishes ha^bccn gratified: P pe^ 
turn no unworthy citizen ; my country wilPnot 
reftise to open her parental arms to a son who 
has fbught her battles, atid who has preferred 
her honour to every other consideration. Such 
i^ my consolation, Septimins ; but unused- ar I 
am to the intrigues of courts, to the fklseness <tf 
society, to^ the ^reserve of^ suspicious intercourse, 
how can r leave without regret a- camp where 
confidence presided over our conversations> where 
our duty was our pleasure and ambition, and 
where due subordination maintained^ uninter* 
rupted' harmony. For emulation I shall noW 
meet envy; for friendship, ceremony; and for 
obedience, slavery; Iir out' Word, I must ex* 



change tb^ command of Germanicus for that of 
Tiberius. 

Yet let me not anticipate misfortunes: our 
life cannot be regulated by our desires ; it must 
flow conformably with our duties^ since we have 
no right to hope for enjoyments which we have, 
not merited. 

If I cannot free my country from the evils into 
which she is plunged^ it remains with me to 
bear a part with constancy and firmness: I 
will^ at leasts endeavour to assist in maintaining 
her honour abroad^ if it is' not granted me to 
restore her liberty at home. 

I shall not^ without regret^ quit a country 
where I have passed several years, and to which 
probably I may never return. All local images 
that were once unpleasant to reflection are found 
to lose their force, when our departure from 
the place that gave them birth, removes all 
apprehensions of their being again renewed. 

The fate of Sigismar distresses and alarms 
me, and I feel much resentment and afflic- 
tion for the injury done to big father's me- ' 
mory. 

Germanicus, whom I shall accompany in his 
journey, means to pass through the southern 



£fiO 

part of Gau1> where he has some differences 
to settle amongst the inhabitants. This will 
afford me an opportunity of writing to you 
again before we reach Italy. 



£21 



LETTER XLIII. 

W E are now at Nemausis,* and a few days, 
Septimius, will restore me to the' delightful 
Hesperia. GUI' 'journey has been rapid, and 
Germanicus has strictly forbidden those demon- 
strations of regard with which the various cities 
in our way had prepared to receive him. At 
Lugdunumf we were shewn the aqueduct built 
by Marc Anthony, while he was quaestor in 
Gaul, and the highway for which the public is 
indebted to Agrippa ; X l^ut the inhabitants are 
much more vain of shewing an altar erected to 
Augustus in his life-time, arid relate with inex- 
pressible satisfaction, that it was dedicated on 
the same day as Claudius, § the brother of our 



* Nismes; in Langae<|oc. 

t Lyons, capital of the Lionnois in France. 

X Marcas Vipsanius Agrippa, the friend of Augustus, 
a great and successful general. 

. i Claudius Caesar afterwards Emperor. 



2^2 

general^ was born in the city. I do not believe 
tl^at Germanicus himself considers either of these 
circumstances very honourable to the town of 
Lugdunum^ or the Caesarian family. 

The gentle Arar* was frozen, while the im- 
petuous Rhone pursued his tiourse with unin- 
terrupted celerity, an emblem of those minds 
whose activity renders them superior to tke 
commcm obstacles of life. We continued o«ir 
journey along the banks of the river to Vienna : |- 
this capital of the Attobrogians j is built in a 
most picturesque situation, and only wants the 
advantages of a happier climate : it increases 
daily in splendour and magnificence: new edt«- 
fices adorQ the streets, and a temple § is now 
erecting to Augustus and Livia. The envi- 
rons of Vienna are planted with gardens, and 
decorated with viUas. We climbed a high hiU, 

* Arar, tlie Saone. 

t VieoBay Vieime in Daiipbinyy an arckbiiiboprick on 
the borders of the Rhone. 

X Allobrogians> Danphinea^ 4Uid Savoyards* 

$ Now {( churchy cnUed Noti^ Dasie de la Vie ; the 
inscriptioa discovered, like that of the Maison quarr^e at 
Nismes, by the holes left from nailing on the letters* 
There are many remains of antiquities at Vienue. 



sas 

which overlooks the town, to view the fortifica- 
tions* made by Julius Caesar. Two castles, f 
placed on separate eminences, add strength to 
these works, and command an extensive and 
agreeable view of the windings of the Rhone. 

The borders of the river in summer have a 
pleasing variety, but in the present season all is 
wretched and desolate. We passed with diffi- 
culty the river Isara,{ the waves of which swelled 
into a torrent near their junction with the Ehone^ 
where he saw the temples § of Hercules and 
Mars, raised by Fabius Maximus Emilianus^ 
after he had, with thirty thousand of our troops 
defeated two bundled thousand of the natives. 
Wherever a Roman passes he meets with objects 
that excite his respect and emulation ; our vic- 
tories give celebrity to the countries which have 
jBubmitted to our arms, and, in future ages, these 
will probably fix their epoch from the conquests 
of the Romans. 

. You would have smiled, Septimius, to have 
been a witness of the pleasure I experienced 

* The ruins of them are still to be seen. 

t Pipet and Labadie. 

t Llsere. 

$ Strabo's geography. 




224 

when^ after so long an absence from these hap- 
py dimes^ I first perceived the trees of Minerva 
that supply the means of cheerful light and 
wholesome nourishment. Germanicus^ who 
never omits to visit whatever appears worthy of 
his curiosity, having been told of a remarkable 
fountain in the territories of the Vocontians,* 
we went thither, and did not repent the delay 
which it occasioned. The fountain forms a small 
river that throws itself into the Rhone. After 
directing our steps towards the source, along the 
serpentine stream, shaded with osier and willows, 
we arrived at a narrow valley, encompassed with 
barren rocks of an immense height. The hoarse 
murmur of the waters, broken by the rock^^ 
and covered with foam, convinced us that we 
were approaching near the cavern whence they 
derive their origin. At length we perceived a 
tremendous excavation, formed by the hand of 
nature, through which the stream bursts forth to 
light; and afler falling from rock to rock in various 
' cascades, winds peaceably along the valley and 
adjacent plains. The depth of the cavern is un- 

* Avignonese, and inhabitants of the Comtat Yenaissin. 
This passage alludes to the fountain of Vaucluse, cele- 
brated by Petrarch, 



fktlK>iQab]e : sometimes, as the inhabitants re« 
lated to us, the water is far below the level at 
which we saw it, and at others, rises consider- 
ably higher. This valley seems a fit place for 
meditation and poetry, and a favourite of the 
Muses might here complain of some cruel fair, 
or mourn her loss with descriptive beauties suffi- 
cient to render the spot immortal; at the same 
time it is not adapted to create cheerful images. 
The adjacent country is fertile, and- finely inter- 
spersed with rivulets and meadows; but dn the 
banks of the Rhone they know no other winds 
than those which blow directly from the North 
or South, both violent to an extreme degree, and 
productive of excessive cold or heat. The con- 
flict of these winds often excites a tempest on 
the river, in which state we crossed it. 

Through rocks made passable by the toil of 
Caesar's legions, we arrived at ]^femausis, a city 
which Germanicus was obliged to visit, though it 
lengthened our journey. 

I have here admired a beautiful temple,* raised 
to the short-lived honour of Caius and Lucius 
CaBsar,t who were snatched from all the favours 

* Maison qnarn^e de Nismes. 

t Cains and Lucius Caesar, sons of Agrippa and Julia, 
adopted l^y Augustus. 

Vol. I. Q 



of fortune before tbey cpuld know their fallacy. 
While I contemplated this magnificent and ele- 
gant structure, the fluted cd^mn^, the light and 
sumptuous capitals, the profu^on of ornaments, 
and all the excellence of art directed l^y the 
hand of genius, my spirits were struck with a 
sudden damp. I reflected that, since my return 
Xq our legions^ I had heard that Julia, the mo- 
ther pf these princes, she to whose sons and 
. father temples have been erected, Julia, 
daughter of th^ master of the world, died of 
famine* in an obscure angle of his empire ! O 
Tiberius ! was it for you to punish the errors of 
her w,ho owed her beiug tp your benefactor, who^ 
fir^t led you to fortune and distinction ? What 
reason, Septlmius, have I to flatter myself that 
Valerius has been spared? 

This place has a noble fountain,t and many 
temples, amongst which is the ^lendid fane of 
Piana;! likewise an ampitheatre,§ and various 
other edifices, contributing to the ornament 
of the city, which acknowledges the Egyp- 
tians for its founders, as the palm tree and 

* Tacitus and other historians. 

t The substruction of the ancient works h now vi* 
sible. 

t § Both still remainmg in tolerable- preservation.' 



crocodile on the gates and principal buildings 
seem manifestly to denote. The situation is hot 
favourable^ and the air is less pure than where 
hills and vallies^ diversify the scene. Germanicus 
has administered justice on the tribunal, and to- 
morrow we depart for Liguria, meaning to cross 
the maritime Alps in our way to Rome. 



a2 



22S 



LETTER XLIV. 

W E are detained^ Septimiiis^ in a small vil- 
lage of Liguria,* by the torrent which is impas- 
sable ; my impatience daily increases^ and every 
moment seems longer to me now than w^eks ^nd 
months before I approached so near the capital 
of our eippire. 

After quitting Nemausis we again crossed the 
Rhone^ and travelled through the dusty plains of 
the Roman province,t .where I saw but too many 
of the olive trees, the first appearance of which 
had given me such pleasing emotions. Scarce any 
other trees enliven the tedious road, and had not 
the remembrance of Marius near Aquae sextise^ 
induced us to visit the field of battle, where he 

* The EDcient ligaria comprehended not only the Ge- 
noese territories^ bnt also part of Lombardy^ &c. 

t Provence andpartofLanguedoc. 

t Aqaae seictiae, Aix in Proven9e, an archbishopricky 
and capital of the province. See Plutarch, life of Ma- 
riufi* 



defeated the Teutons and Ambroncs,* no interest- 
ing object woiijd have presented itself to our view. 
I surveyed with delight the place, overshadowed 
by a chain of lofly mountains, where this ex- 
perienced and indefatigable leader subdued 
such numerous tod warlike enemies: my ima- 
gination represented him crowned with gar- 
lands of victory, and raising the torch to con- 
sume a pile of conquered arms, while his 
friends came riding hastily over the plain, to 
announce that he was nominated to his fifth 
con^ulate• 

At Massiliaf we stayed two days, on account 
of the applications made to German icus; and 
though he had positively declined to receive any 
pubhc honours, we were importuned ivith ha- 
rangues, congratulatory poems, and all that li- 
terary adulation could invent. We were not left 
a moment to ourselves, and had scarcely leisure 
to contemplate the famous Temple of Apollo, and 
that of the Ephesian Diana.]; The air of Massi- 

* Ambrones and Teutones, Swiss and Germ^i, 

f Marseille. 

i StrabOy &c. The abbaye de St. Victor is supposed 
to bare been founded on the ruins of the ancient temple 
of Diana. 






lia is salubrious^ but tempests are ^equ^nt# and 
the coast dangerous for navigators : the country 
is barren and drea;ry since the soMiers of Juliufe 
Caesar were compeUed to cut doWn the sacred ib* 
rest The inhabitants may still deserve the pleas- 
ing character^ given them by Cicero> and iso 
doubt they retain many features of ancient 
Greece, though colonists oftener transplant tfa« 
vices than the virtues of their mother country 
The MassiHans yet enjoy the reputation oi fru- 
gality> regularity of life, and great application to 
their studies ; for which reason many of the Ro-^ 
miins send their children to be educated amongst 
them, but we do not find that they become either 
soldiers or statesmen in consequence of this edu-^ 
cation ; and, what would lead me to suspect th€ 
sincerity of their instructors, they return widi the 
specious theory rather than the essential practice 
of morality. How^ often have I heard this remark 
from Valerius, who never could support the idea> 
that Roman youths were to imbibe Grecian man- 
ners. Less rigid in his expressions than Cato the 
censor, but equally firm in his principles, he ad- 
vised me not to neglect the literattffe of the 
Greeks, but never to rely on their philosophy. 
Had my belief in the wisdom of Valerius needed 



ftSi 

mj confirttlfttion^ my knowledge of Philoclei 
would have been sufficient to convince me. 

At Tekmum* we found a climate resembling 
^t of It^y> and a havedf- forijied by nature fo^ 
tbe safety of mariners. It has the appearance of 
ft spacious lake^ surrounded by hills^ n^hich pro- 
tect it from every blast, ?uid conceal the entrance 
from those who are within its circle. Like me^ 
Septimius; you have undoubtedly rejoiced to ob- 
serve in your travels any port well defended froiii 
the winds afnd waves. The hardy seaman is con- 
deninedtd a life of toil and peril: surely his in- 
tin^als bf rest should be free frott care and soli- 
citudes Methinks a dangerods knd unsafe bar* 
hovtc resembles a treachef'ous friend. How 
Swrfetched i^ the man who, after being all day a- 
^tated with the troubles of the world, caiUnpt 
ind in the evening security and rfe|)ose in the 
midst of his family and connexions ! 

We einbarked it TMotturti, and sailing through 
the small cluster of islands that compose the 
Stoechades,} were delighted with the fragrance 



• Toalon. 

t The road of Toiilon. 

t Lesislesd'Hieres. 






emitted from the groves of oraoge trees and o4o« 
riferou9 plants, that give the country an appear- 
. ance of perpetual spring; but how deceitful is 
this appearance ! the miserable inhabitants, by 
their pale and meagre aspect,, demonstrate too. 
clearly at what a price this verdure must be pur* 
chased. Exposed to all the ardour of the sun> 
and to the noxious blasts of the south, their fever- 
ish summers make them envy those who dwell 
amid Hiphsan snows, while they loathe the 
golden fruits which tempt the passing traveller. 
Hence, coasting along the rocky shores, over 
which hang woods of olive trees,^ we descried 
the sandy plains and lofly mansions of Forum 
Julii,* the smiling. villas of Nicaea,! the steepy 
height of Hercules Monoeces,| and the ancient 
Sabua3ia,§ where Germanicus intended to disem* 
bark, and pursue his journey by the Emiliany 

. ^ A bishoprick in Provence, now called Fiejus. 

t Nice, belonging to bis Sardinian Miyesty. 

* X Monaco, a small town belonginii; to the prince of 
that name, with a French garrison. 

§ Savona, a small city and sea port, belonging to the 
Genoese. 

U Road made by Emilius Scaoros. Strabo. 



833 

way.. ' But a contrary wind having prevented us 
from making the harboury we were forced to con- 
tinue our voyage^ till at length we landed at the 
capital of the maritime Ligurians^ a place long 
the seat of war, and possessed alternately by the 
Carthaginians and Romans. 

Genoa is surrounded with high and almost in- 
accessible mountains. The inhabitants, whose 
industry and love of gain have been perhaps im- 
planted in them by nature, lest they should starve 
amidst the rocks on which their city is founded, 
have scarce any resemblance to the other natives 
of bur regions. Their enjoyments are few, and 
they seem not to desire more ; they live in a con- 
stant q§ries of hardships, and labour to amass trea- 
sures which are not lavishly squandered : but their 
ideas may change, and magnificent structures 
may one day adorn these bsirren hills; for where 
are the people that do not sooner or later seek to 
vie with their neighbours in pomp and splen- 
dour ? 

We crossed the maritime Alps* in the midst 
of rain, snow, and tempestuous winds. Having, 
attained their summits involved in clouds, we 
seemed to be separated from the rest of mortals ; 
the darkness of the sky, and^ontention of the de- 

^ PaMage of the maritime Alps. La Bocchetta, 






354 

Bieiits^ increased the desolate ap^earmce' of these 
barren mountaiDs^ which have been loi^ respect* 
ed as the primeral raniparts of our state. . The 
Alps and Apennines niay indeed be tehned oar 
natural protectors : but, like all such bouiidaries> 
they are insufficient if not cbfended by codra^ 
and vigilance. The eicessire confidence which 
they once inspired was the chief cause of the ter- 
rors feh at Rome, aft^r the massacres of AUiai 
Trebia, and Thfasiniene. The besieged always 
fleel kss akcrity than the besiegers; and they 
who trust id impracticable roads, or other lo^al 
defences, are in the situation of the former. The 
Spartans disdained to surround theil* city with ^ 
wall$ and never were Uie Romans so great, as 
when they discoveredi by etperiaice, the insuffi* 
eieney di these barriers. The Ligurians, on the 
contrary, still ^lory in behig almost maccessible ; 
and conceive their safety to depeiifd on rocks and 
pre<^ipiee^ and their liberty oh sechision ft(jm the 
rest of mankind. By their adherence to snclr 
p^iiioiplds were w^ constrained to niake war upon 
thenr for eighty successive yeafrs^ in order to ob-^ 
tain a piece of ^rotrad fifteen hundred paiees^ in 
length for Ihe public road. 
As SQO^ as the torrent permits us ip tni6Ve, w^ 

•"fiftrabo; 



9,36 



shall lo6e no time in proceeding on our journey. 
Agrippina and her children are already at 
Rorne^ as well as the officers, and part of the 
army that will appear in the triumph; these 
have received orders to conduct the prison* 
ers, and to hear the trophies and spoils of the 
enemy. But those victories that have heen gain- 
id with most toil and danger, do not alWaJrs af- 
ford the most splendid appeandice in th6 streeti 
of Rome. Eastern magnificence incitcfs to plun* 
defraud gold and jewels may bc^ easily vlr6ti> 
while the osier shield of the Ckrmait is scarce 
eirtt dicqiiired without a long and arduous con- 
flict. 



236 



LETTER XLV. 



W HAT a singular and pleasing contrast, my 
friend, between the bleak and desdate mountains 
whence I last addressed you, and the fertik plains 
of Cisalpine Gaul,''^ which opened to our view as 
we arrivied in the neighbourhood of Derthonlf 
The variety of fruit trees intermixed with the tall 
and elegant poplar, the wide extended com fields, 
the verdant meadows covered with innumerable 
flocks and herds, and watered by inexhaustible ri- 
vulets, the commodious .dwellings and cheerful ap- 
pearance of the peasants, clearly demonstrate 
their happiness, and excite the most pleasing sen- 
sations in the mind of the traveller. I dwelt with 
satisfaction on this prospect of tranquil pros- 
perity and guiltless treasures ; I felt no weariness 
from the uniformity of the scene ; I wanted nei- 
ther hills to diversify the ground, nor cataracts to 



* Lombardy. 

t Tortona, belonging to tlie king of Sardinia. 



disturb the melodious song of the nightingale. 
On comparing this country with that I had left, 
it appeared to me like the pleasures of content 
after the pursuits of ambition ; but the season was 
favourable to my reflections^ for though we had 
l>een detained in Liguria by the waters, swoln with 
accidental rains, the approach of summer had not 
yet thawed the mass of snow, which a few weeks 
later will fall in torrents from' the mountains and 
oveirflow these beauteous plains with extensive 
desolation. Industry, and unwearied attention 
have put some stop to these ravages: and little 
traces now exist of the marshes where Hannibal 
and his army suffered more from the inconveni- 
ences of climate, than from the valour of our armies. 
The navigable canal* of Emilius Scaurus, from 
Placentia to Parma, is one of those great works of 
public utility which deserve the gratitude of 
ages ; but how much was I affected, my friend, 
before I arrived at the former of these colonies, 
, when I passed the river Trebia I How deeply did 
I feel the misfortunes and dishonour which re- 
membrance seems to have perpetuated on its 
banks ! A routed army, two consuls flying in dis- 

* Strabo* Some r^nains of it are to be teen on the 
road between Piacenza and Parma. 



238 

order from a foreign inyader I Surely the masaacrt 
of Teutoburgium is less disgraceftil to the Roman 
arms: oqr legions were murdered^ but those ci 
Sempronius were defeated. 

Near the river Sputana,* I perceived lai^e 
flooks of the sheep whose fleeces are so much es- 
t^med for their delicate and glossy fineness^ 
while those of Ligui'ia have a wool that denotes 
the rudeness of the mountains which gave them 
birth* The plains round Mutinaf arr filled 
with these harmless and useful animals : they 
gra^ uninterruptedly on those fields, which 
were once a scene of slaughter and civil fiiry, 
where two c^suls p^ished in arms against their 
f^^Uaw 9o)diers, and where Av^stu^ laid the found* 
ation oi that power which no reverse of fortune 
could afterwards destroy. 

I was pleaded to n^iew the ground where one 
pf my ancestprst overthrew the Ligunans, and 
freed the inhabitants of this country from their 
peipetual incairaion^. We passed hastily over thm 
Apennines, and through part of Umbria, where 
we law an im^»ease number of the caverns^ 

*LaSecchia. 
^ t ^4«9% Qfipital c^^e 4a#^ of tl^al MimQ« 
t Caius FUminius. livy, Book 30. 



«39 

which sensed anciently as retreats for over hostile 
neighhour^j though not inaccessihle to Roman 
bravery. 

. In our way through £truria« I have not had 
time to adopt your practice of making enquiries 
ilito th^ ancient rites and customs of a nation, to 
which the Romans were indebted for so many of 
^heir religions and political ceremonies. You 
bid me reccjlect that our triumphal and consular 
ornaments, as well as our music, came originally 
from T^(}uinium : I had no opportunity of 
making new r^pnarks on any of these subjects ex- 
cept the latter : music is still the darling passion 
of the Tuscans; their voices are melodious, and 
even the peasants^ speak with a prq>nety that a- 
mazes me. Amongst the shepherds of the enyi* 
rons . of Clnsium, I thought I could trace the 
courtesy which distinguished the good Porsenna ; 
and as we were coming down the hill, or rather 
precipice, which was formerly a part of his do- 
minions, we found many of tkem employed in 
digging out of the ruins of a decayed building se- 
veral vases, which^ like many others discovered 
in this country, as well as in the more south- 
ern parts of Italy, bi^ evident marks of theiip 
Qr^cian origin^. On on« of them we perceived 
the figures of Orestes and Pylades^ at the tomb 



240 

of Agamemnon ; and on another those of Pew:-^ 
loipe and her atteniiants at work. The form of 
these vases is simple and elegant, and the de* 
signs on them are expressivje though without sha- 
dows or colouring. 

We are now at Volsinium* a city once opulent 
and respected for good morals and excellent laws, 
till its inhabitants, enervated by luxuryi suffered 
their. slaves to intrude themselyes into the senate, 
and afterwards to comtnit every excess which low 
bom tyranny can invent or perpetrate. Their 
reign, indeed, could not be lasting, but was suf- 
ficiently long to annihilate the glory of Volsinium. 
Who would now conceive that this obscure mum« 
cipal town was formerly chief of the twelve prin- 
cipal cities of Etruria; or that Sejanu8,f one of 
its least deserving natives, should at present be 

* Bolsena, now belonglDg to the Pope. livy, Vale- 
rius Maximus, &c. 

f 

t Tacitus, Book- 4. The praetorian cohorts .were the 
emperor's guards ; praefect of the pnetoriuin, their conoi- 
mander ; this was an employment instituted by Augustus^ 
and equalled in dignity the dictator's master of the horse 
in the time of the republic : it was the highest military 
rank, after that of emperor: in later times the 
prstorian guards often made their commander eot- 
peror. 



■^41 

intrusted with the command of the praetorian Co-* 
horts? 

The situation of Volsinium is by no means 
pleasing, being rendered damp and unwholesome 
fron^ the vicinity of the lakes ; but the soil is pe- 
culiarly fertile. I was delighted, at Aquulae,* 
with the variety H>f hills and vallies, and the cool- 
ness and beauty of the cascades. It was at this 
place, a few miles before we arrived at Volsinium, 
that we were met by Drusus, who, impatient to 
embrace his brother, had quitted Rome, as soon 
as he heard of his approach : he congratulated me 
on my return, with wiusual kindness, and spoke 
of you in terms that soon endeared him to me. 

" Septimius," said he, " is our common friend, 
and your attachment to him cannot be greater 
than mine. I acknowledge the superiority of his 
virtues : when he is near me, he resembles a pro- 
tecting genius, who saves me from my own im- 
petuosity, and renders me more worthy of being 
called the brothier of Germanicus. Every de- 
structive passion gives way to his admonitions, I 
feel an internal tranquillity unknown to me when 
immersed in thoughtless dissipation or tumultuous 
pleasures. All my study then is to imitate the 

* Aquapendente^ 
Vol. I, R 



342 

conduct of Septimius: his military talents int 
universally confelised, and his literary acquire- 
ments and unprejudiced philosophy acknow- 
ledged hy the learned; hut' you and Drusus only 
can do justice to ' the virtues of his heart. We 
all pursued at the same time the sports of child- 
hood, hut Septimius makes me hlush when I re- 
flect how differently I have employed the few 
years in which he has since attained such various 
perfection/' 

Thus, my friend, did the candid < Drusus hear 
testimony to your merit : be not offended with 
me fbr repeating your praises : they reflect ho-» 
nour on the person who uttered them. 

llie lively imagination and engaging figure of 
Drusus, joined to the unfortunate distinction of 
being the son of Tiberius, must necessarily ex- 
pose him to all the errors created or cherished hy 
adulation. Surrounded with the favours of for-* 
iune, he is still dissatisfied, and frequently com- 
plains to Germanicus of the insolent Sejanus, 
who enjoys all the confidence of his father ; and 
he has hinted some displeasure at the behaviour 
of Li via, who, I fear> does not resemble in dispo- 
sition either her mother Antonia, or our generaL 
Germanicus prudently advised him to bear, with 
moderation or contempt^ the haughty demeanour 



U3 

• 

of thie fkvbnrite^ and promised to counsel hii 
niter 'm respect to that part of her conduct 
which meets with the disapprobation of her 
llusband. ^ 

Dpusus expresses the highest veneration for the 
talents and virtues of Valerius; and has increased 
my anxiety by assuring me that Sejanus is his 
implacable (enemy: he interests himself warm- 
ly in discovering the place of his retreat, and 
baa already made fruitless attempts to investigate 
the ultimate cause of his departure. This ex- 
traordinary zeal for restoring to the senate a 
distinguished lover of his country, whose prin- 
ciples must give constant' umbrage to the empe- 
ror, surprised me greatly in a young man who 
passes for one totally indifferent to the affairs of 
the republic, and whose sole occupation has 
hitherto been the pursuit of his pleasures ; but 
an expression that escaped firom him^ developed 
the mystery. While he was exclaiming against 
the insolence of Sejanus, who dared to control 
the free opinions of men of birth and senatorial 
dignity, he added, with indignation sparkling 
in his eyes, that he had carried his temerity so 
far aft to aspire to an union with Valeria, the 
most beautiful, the most accomplished, and, in 
every respect, the most distinguished woman ia 

b2 



£44 

Home ; that he had nqt dared to demand her^ 
directly of her father, and could not, with all 
his influence, prevail on the emperor to interest 
himself in his suit, but had engaged some of bia 
' adherents to make the proposal, which was re- 
jected by Valerius with a just disdain. *' Since 
that time," continued Drusus^ "he has 'never 
ceased to calumniate your uncle, and has at 
length deprived our city of its brightest orna- 
ment. Whenever," added he with a deep sigh, 
" I pass before the mansion of Valerius, I feel 
myself so much agitated — so much enraged — 
that were I that moment to encounter Sejanus, I 
could not refrain from plunging my weapon in 
his heart." 

Germanicus and myself put an end to this 
conversation by conjuring Drusus to restrain his 
temper: I assured him no power on earth should 
prevent me from demanding justice on those who 
had calumniated the honour of Valerius ; that 
the care of his reputation, and the welfare of his 
family regarded myself alone, and that I wished 
to have no partner in the perils to which my re- 
monstrances might expose me. To this he made 
no reply, but soon after retired to rest, as did . 
Germanicus. Early to-morrow we pursue our 
journey to Rome, where I hope to find letters 



245 

from you. I dispatch this by a messenger of one 
of the prstors, whom I casually met this evening^^ 
and would not omit an opportunity of writing to 
Septimius. 



«4<l 



'.•*• 



LETTER XLVI. 

Notwithstanding the many circumsun- 

ces thai cloud, the future prospect of my life, 
I felt a momentary rapture at the sight of impe- 
rial Rome. You are well acquainted, my friend, 
with the country through which we directed our 
course from Volsinium hither : every city* pour- 
ed forth its inhabitants to g^in a sight of their 
beloved Germanicus : all the praetorian cohorts, 
stationed in Rome, issued out to meet him, 
though only two had received such orders. The 
Roman people, of either sex, and of every age 
and rank, came in crowds as far as to the twen- 
tieth mile stone from the city, to. welcome home 
their long expected hero. Every voice, every 
countenance proclaimed with what facility he 
might have rendered himself master of our em- 
pire. He is satisfied with the universal esteem 
and attachment of which he has daily proofs; 

* The honoan paid to Germanicus are mentioned by 
all historians. 



U7 

but avoids giving way to the pleasing feelings 
of his breast, lest he should be suspected of 
afiecting popularity. The 'most painful tribute 
virtue is constrained to pay to vice, is the per- 
petual self-denial to which it is condemned; 
the innocent effusions of sensibility, nmst often 
be suppressed that they may not be ill inter- 
preted by such minds as are strangers to it. 
Often did I observe the bosom of Caesar heave 
with an , involuntary sigh, while witli averted 
eyes he seemed to steal a glance on the demon- - 
stlrations of afiectioh, which he would so gladly 
have shared. 

Our journey Was delightful, and every object 
became more and more interesting to me as we 
approached nearer to the capital. You have 
often adn^ired the Ciminian lake,* and the woods 
that hang over its banks: nothing can exceed 
their beauty in the present season. As we 
climbed the steepy ascent that leads to the top of 
the mountain, we were enchanted by the sight 
of a variety of plants and flowery shrubs, that 
grow intermixed with the .sycamore and chesnut 

* Lake of Vico, between Viterbo and Ronciglione. 
The Ciminian mountain is now called simply la Mon- 
tagne. The present pope has made an excellent road 
over it 



248 

trees, by the different hue of the verdure, the 
transparency of the lake beneath us, the song 
of innumerable birds, and the perfume of the 
flowers. Even Drusus, who does not appear a 
great observer of the beauties of nature, confess- 
ed the pleasure he experienced, and stopped 
to contemplate the prospect which opened to 
our view. " You must find a great difference,'* 
said he to our general, '* between these groves, 
worthy the island of Cythera, and your Her- 
cynian forest : the change is not uninteresting, 
and deserves the raptures which you seem to 
feel.'' ' 

" It must be owned," returned Germanicus, 
" that nothing can be more enchanting than the 
scene before us, yet there was a time when the 
Ciminian forest was as formidable* to the Roman 
people as the woods of Germany have lately 
been ; when the passage through ,it was consi - 
dered as so arduous^ and hazardous an exploit, 
that it was not thought advisable to permit the 
general to attempt it. Yet Fabius was superior 
to these prejudices, and justified, by his successj^ 
a conduct which otherwise would have been con- 
demned as the most culpable temerity. What 

• Floras, Livy, &c. 



249 

praises were bestowed on his adventurous bro- 
ther, who, having been taught the Etruscan lan- 
guage, as we are now instructed in the Greek, 
undertook to explore this terrific passage in the 
disguise of a peasant ! There are few difficulties 
which courage and perseverance cannot sur- 
mount ; and often, when I have been debating 
with myself whether I should expose the army of 
Tiberius to the peril of a doubtful enterprise, 
I have been confirmed by the remembrance of 
Fabius, crowned with victory, and past the con- 
fines of these woods, giving the account of his 
conquests to the astonished tribunes who had 
been sent from Rome to conjure him not to ven- 
ture over the fearful mountain. Neither Marcus 
nor myself can be insensible to the charms of 
this spot in its present state of beauty; but we 
have experienced far greater satisfaction in the 
wilds of Germany, after a hard fought engage- 
ij ment, than we can ever feel from the most seduc- 

ing prospect that Italy may afford." 

I- readily assented to the observation of Ger- 
mahicus, and Drusus agreed that the majestic 
oaks, which shade the descent from the Ciminian 
hill, conveyed to him more sublime *ideas than 
the gay and variegated appearance of the groves 






250 

through whieh we had passed to attain the sum- 
mit. 

I now saw mount Soracte,* rearing his lofty 
head in the midst of our spacious plain ; and 
as we arrived at Rome by the Flaminian way, I 
traced with satisfaction this memorial of the ser- 
vices rendered to the republic by my ancestors. 
I should have blushed to tread this memorable 
road, if I had not done my utmost to imitate 
their patriotic zeal. Thus^ when I passed the 
rivulet of Cremera, I could not help reflecting 
on the advantages to be reaped from a proper 
sense of the dignity and merit of our forefathers. 
The three hundred Fabii who there fell so glo- 
riously in defence of their country, are the 
models on which their descendants have been 
formed to every virtue ; and this very action had 
its source in the same noble pride. The Fabii 
wished to give an exalted proof of. the tran- 
scendent valour of their illustrious family : am- 
bition like this gives birth to a nation of heroes^ 
and private emulation becomes a public bene- 
fit. 

I crossed the Tiber with such emotions as 1 

• Mount Sainte Oreste. 



should in rain endeavour to describe. I saluted, 
from the Milvian bridge, the Sabine hills, the 
Fidenian plains, and every vrell-known object 
that recalled to my mind a train of circum^- 
stances long banished from my memory. New 
villas were presented to my sight, increasing 
magnificence announced the mistress of the 
world ; and when we stopped at the mansion^ 
where Germanicus had appointed Agrippina to 
await his coming, I almost forgot that I had 
no parent to receive me ! 

Our leader pressed me to accept of a hospita- 
ble welcome on the Hortulan hill,''^ where he 
means to remain till he makes his triumphal 
entry into Rome ; but numberless reasons induced 
me to decline the proposal. I found my villa in 
the same suburb, ready for tny reception, and 
my affairs in much better order than I could have 
reason to expect. Youlr cares, and those of the 
faithful Philo, have re-instated all things as my 
father left them; and I have refused the res- 
titution, generously offered me, for the time 
in which I was absent, by my heirs, who bad 
supposed thems^ves in lavpful possession of my 
estates. 

* Milvian bridge, Ponte Molle. Kf ount Piucio^ now 
•Heloied witbun the walls of Rome. 



252 

I am now the inhabitant of a vast dwelling* 
the splendor of which is useless, and the e^ttent 
of which reminds me that I am solitary. I wan- 
der from room to room in search of inhabitants> 
and only find animated statues, who obey ttij 
commands without sharing my feelings. Many 
of my former acquaintance have indeed visited 
me, and expressed great satisfaction at my re- 
turn. The praises bestowed by Germanicus on 
my conduct procure me demonstrations of es- 
teem from many, with whom I was before un- 
acquainted; but all these have their separate 
connexions and societies : with them they paiss 
their days in familiar intercourse:' an unin- 
terrupted reciprocation of cares and pleasures 
has given them a mutual knowledge of the same 
events, and lias communicated to them' the 
same ideas. To most of these I am a stranger ; 
all appears new to me, and my curiosity would 
often exact details, the repetition of which must 
be tiresome to those from whom I might hope for 
information. Germanicus alone can feel for my 
situation ; but, since our arrival, he has constant- 
ly been employed with Tiberius, whom I have 
not yet seen. 

Drusus, though ever engaged in new amuse- 
ments, always seems to feel a vacuity in life, and 



45S 

hopes every fresh ohject will remove the discon-' 
tent he so often experiences : he courts my 
friendship^ and uses every effort to entertain me r 
his regard for you interests me in his favour, 
and I lament that he is the son of . Tibe- 
rius. 

Your letters from Greece will direct me in 
search of Valerius as soon as the triumph has 
taken place, for which the most splendid prepa- 
rations are making, which necessarily occasion 
delay. The emperor, as I am informed, affects 
to praise the actions of our leader, but always in- 
termixes some remark on his pretended temerity, 
and disapproves of the sensibility which in- 
duced him to assist at the funeral honours^ paid 
to the memory of our unfortunate legions, be- 
cause aii ancient superstition forbade our generals 
to approach the dead. Such strictures, which 
can only excite the indignation of the good, and 
the ridicule of the wise, are seriously repeated 
by Sejanus and his party, and the most irreligious 
and most immoral characters of Rome inveigh 
against Germanicus for transgressing the laws of 
the Pontifex. Agrippina is highly exasperated 
at these conversations ; but our general, con- 
scious of his steady adherence to every noble and 

* Tacitus^ Book 1. 



«54 

honourable sentiment, secure in love to hi^ eouii^ 
try and loyalty to his prince, disdains the malice 
of his enemies, and never breathes a complaint 
against the emperor. 

I cannot, however, blame the iudignatioil oS 
Agrippina; the persecution of her family has 
been notorious: how dreadful was the fate of 
her last unhappy brother,^ who, though adopted 
by Augustus, and the only remaining hope of 
the Csesarian line, was condemned to live a mise^ 
rable outcast in Plahasi$i,t and at length murder- 
ed by the successful Tiberius. It is not possible: 
that Augustus could ever wish his death: aU 
Rome has seen through the thin disguise with: 
which the new emperor sought to veil his guilt ;» 
and he has, in some measure, received the pu- 
nishment of his crime in the terrors to which he 
has been exposed by the conspiracy of Clemena. 
This daring ^aye, who made the inhabitants of 
our municipal towns and colonies believe that he- 
was Posthumous Agrippa, had even imposed ooi 
many persons in the capital ; and was not more; 
supported in the fraud by a singular resemblance 
to his deceased master, than by tlie protection c^ 

* Po^ttmotis Agrippa, son of Agrippa and Jolia. Ta< 
eitus Book 1. and 2. and other historians, 
t Piaoosai an isUudd in the Mediten^ean* 



C55 

various senators and other citizens of note, who 
were happy to find an opportunity of exciting 
seditions against, the emperor. The death of 
Clemens, and the secrecy observed on the occa- 
* sion, appear to have put an end to this extraordi- 
nary transaction, but the party was considerable^ 
and the alarms of Tiberius will not easily be 
quieted. It is unfortunate that any plots of this 
nature should ever have been conceived, as they 
seem to justify the precautions of tyranny, 
and create distrust and apprehensions which 
oflen become fatal to characters incapable of 
joining in any unworthy confederacy. 



256 



LETTER XLVII. 

r I 

After inhabiting rude and uninteresting re- 
gions, where the long wished return of summer 
affords some "repose from ill, rather than enjoy- 
ment of pleasure, you will easily believe, my 
friend, with what admiration I behold the charms 
diffused by spring over the seven hiUs and their 
beauteous environs. All nature wears a new en- 
livened aspect: with inexpressible delight I con- 
template the azure sky, illuminated by the 
golden orb of day, or by the soft lustre of 
the unclouded moon, whose rays never appeared 
to me so piire, so transparent, as in this country. 
As jsoon as the dawn appears, I wander through 
the fields which our ancestors have consecrated 
by their valour, or trace the banks of Tiber, 
whose yellow waves are dignified by the reflec- 
tion of those edifices, where now reside the 
rulers of the world, and which formerly were 
the . asylum of the bravest and most virtuous of 
mortals. 

This morning my steps were directed towards 



257 

a spot which afiforded me a melancholy satisfac- 
tion. You rtihember the Gallic Dmid, wh6se 
habitation joined the magnificent gardens of Sal- 
lust :* when I departed from Home, he bade me 
sodn return, or age, whose rapid, though imper- 
ceptible advances, reminded him of approaching 
dissolution, tirould preclude our second meeting. 
Alas! his feats were but too true: his urn is 
all that remains, and I wished by visiting this 
^to pay the last tribute to the memory of a man 
in whose soeiety I had passed so many pleas- 
ing ahd instructive hours. In a small grove of 
cypresses, near the place of his dwelling, stands 
the monument of my friend : I riemained long in 
contemplation of its awful glootn, and fdt a 
regret which time can never efface., 

His miiid was strong and penetrating; his 
imagination clear and lively; his heart warm 
with benevolence, and his memory uncommonly 
retentive. Transplanted early from his country, 
he retained few of the prejudices to which nkture 
and a limited educatioh condemn those, who have 

* Gardens of Sallnst on Mount Pincio ; part of the 
ground now belongs to the French Mmimes of the Tri- 
nity du Mont. The account of the Gallic Druid alludes 
to Pere Jacqaier, well known in England as Commenta* 
tor of Sir Isaac Newton. 

Vol. I. s 



d58 

tiot experienced bis advantages. He was nevef 
tenacious of the honour of his profession, except 
when it was unjustly attacked. His mathemati- 
cal and astronomical knowledge will transmit his 
fame to posterity ; and the various scenes of 
life, in which he had been an actor or spectator, 
joined to the natural eloquence with which he re- 
lated past events,, rendered his conversation pie- 
culiarly interesting. He wrote our language 
with accuracy and elegance, and was consider- 
ably versed in the Greek. Condemned in the 
early part of his life to the severe seclusion of 
Druidical discipline, he passed those years in ac- 
quiring the profoundest knowledge, and studied 
truth in spite of superstitious error. His long 
retirement made him afterwards particularly sen- 
sible to the charms of society, which he courted 
by every means that could instruct or entertain. 
Eager for praise, but worthy of obtaining it, so- 
licitous of regard, but deserving of that affection 
which he so warmly repaid, he was beloved by 
the good, esteemed by the wise, and distinguish- 
ed by the great. 

' Such was the man whom I cannot but lament^ 
though his advanced age forbade me to expect a: 
long enjoyment of his society. During my in- 
fancy, and the earliest period of my youth, it 



I 



259 

has been my fate to form connexions with tlie 
aged, and consequently to mourn the loss of 
friends, at a time of life in which many are 
labouring to acquire them. My return to Rome 
has reminded " me of another such loss, which I 
felt more deeply this morning, when leaving the 
grove of cypresses that enclose the ashes of my 
friend, I passed near the Circus of Rora.* Here 
at a small distance from the Salarian gate, I 
raised my eyes to one of the elegant viUas which, 
when I left Rome, was possessed by a venerable 
patrician, who honoured me with his kindness, 
and whom I loved and respected with almost filial 
affecti6n. Bom of one of the most illustrious 
families in Rome, he was distinguished for that 
simplicity and dignity of manners which consti- 
tuted the urbanity of our forefathers. Candour, 
probity, and justice, were his characteristics, 
and, above all, unshaken constancy in his friend- 
ship : his house was splendid, and his company 
well chosen. Our countrymen looked up to him 
as to a respectable monument of their greatness ; 



* The place of it still visible near Porta Salara, Tlie 
Villa Scarra, which belonged to the Prince of Psdestrina, 
of the Colunna family, gave occasion to this pas- 
sage. 

s 2 • 



I 



and strangers^ in him^ admired the majesty of 
Rome. Pardon me, my friend, if I take up a 
few moments of your time in these effusions of 
my gratitude and affection. Friendship with me 
is no short-lived passion ; it is not hmited hy the 
tomb. 

In the midst of my anxieties your letters con- 
sole me, but they do not wholly relieve them. 
You will soon be compelled by your duty to re- 
turn into Illyria, and, I fear, without obtaining 
any information of Valerius. The virorld without 
him would be to me a solitary desert, were it not 
for the kindness of Septimius ; and even that 
kindness cannot dissipate the grief which con- 
sumes me, when I reflect that Valerius has been 
injured, and that I cannot redress his wrongs* 
Should your efforts to discover the place of his 
retreat prove ineffectual, I shall, as soon as th>B 
triumph is over, set out for Campania, and make 
every enquiry at his villa near Baiae that maj 
tend to procure me information, though my let- 
ters to this purpose have hitherto been use- 
less. 

I return you thanks for the pains you have 
taken to give me a description of the religious 
ceremonies''^ still performed at Chalcis, in honour 

* See Plutarcb, life of Titos Flamlnius. 



«6l 

ef Titiis Flaminius ; and I am persuaded that 
your friendship for me made you consider it as a 
very interesting-circumstance that you happened 
to be present at the election of one of his priests* 
The public buildings consecrated to him, the al- 
tar, the sacrifices, and particularly the hymn 
v^hich is sung after the libations, are no doubt 
very honourable to our family, because they are 
so many proofs of the hutnanity, justice, and be- 
neficence of a Flaminius, who was so fortunate as 
to be the deUverer of Greece, and to establish 
in that country a just sense of the generosity and 
Caith of the Romans. But these divine honours, 
paid to a mortal, are to me more disgusting than 
flattering 1 I am fatigued with all I see and hear 
daily of this species of adulation, and am far from 
adopting that vanity, which in others excites my 
resentment. Heaven Imows how little I consider 
myself the descendent of a Divinity, whilst I can 
neither defend my nearest and most beloved rela- 
tion, nor even unravel the strange mystery which 
involves his fate. I am not, however, indifferent 
to the various distinctions conferred throughout 
Greece on the memory of Quintius Flaminius; 
and what with me increases greatly their value, 
is the sincerity with which they were bestowed 
in consequence of his moderation and equity. 



262 

No man was ever endowed with a more benefi-i 
cent disposition,' and none had fairer opportuni- 
ties of shewing it. To reinstate such a country 
as Greece in the possession of its ancient free- 
dom, and to be followed in his triumphal car by- 
twelve hundred Roman citizens, who had long 
mourned in captivity the victories of Hannibal, 
are indeed privileges scarcely mortal ; and seem 
to have been granted him by Providence as a 
reward for that virtue which made him look on 
those, who had received favours from him, as hia 
greatest benefactors. 

You ask me, whether I have yet seen Aurelia. 
I have, my friend, studio&sly avoided her ; she 
has visited Agrippina, and, as I have been in- 
formed, indirectly enquired of various persons, 
concerning my captivity, my actions in Germa- 
ny, and my present intentions. But though I 
abstain from all intercourse with her, shall I 
acknowledge my weakness ? I have been thrice at 
the villa of your mother, not like you to examine 
the petrified shells and other natural curiosities 
whiiih are to be found there, but to contemplate 
the rising moon, from the long walk of cypresses 
that crown the hill,* and overlook the Vatican 

» Monte Mario, 



9,63 

field. It was there we passed the evening which 
preceded my departure ; it was there, while you 
were engaged in conversation with Valerius and 
Atilia^ that Valeria promised me eternal fidelity. 
She pointed to the Alban* mountain, whose aw- 
ful summit, involved in clouds, added melancho- 
ly to the parting moment ; she looked down witl^ 
displeasure on- the pomp of Rome, and th^ 
serpentine course of the Tiber, and charged me 
on the borders of the Rhine and Albis to remem- 
ber Aurelia. Excuse me, Septimius, I conceal 
xny fond delusion from every eye but yours ; 
perhaps it were better I should see her — ^her 
image remains too perfect on my mind — ther^ 
^he still is faithful. 

* Monte Cavp 



£64 



LETTER XLVIII* 

X HE face of Rome appears to me totally 
changed since Tiberius has been master of the 
empire ; though he will not suffer himself to be 
addressed with servile adulation^ or affected hu- 
mility^ he expects that not only his comn^ands^ 
but even his^ desires should be obeyed with the 
most punctual compliance. By a refinement of 
tyranny, he would have slavish obsequiousness 
appear the dictate of inclination. The severity 
of his manners spreads a gloom over all the inha- 
bitants of this city, particularly over those who 
are obliged more nearly to approach him. How 
courteous and popular was Augustus ! his tender- 
ness to his friends and connections made his pri- 
vate character infinitely amiable, and the share 
he took in all public amusements endeared him 
to the people. Such a prince was bom to caist a 
veil over the loss of liberty, and over the scenes 
that preceded his exaltation. But Tiberius is 
naturally of a haughty and sullen temper^ ever 

* See the life of Tiberius in all historiam* 



9,65 

4i$satisfied with himself and others ; while he was 
a subject^, still complaining of neglect^ and, 
since he has been a prince, always suspicious 
of treason. It cannot be denied that he has be- 
haved with intrepidity on many occasions, which 
must have been owing to the force of example 
and discipline, for he is now addicted to the 
empties! and most absurd terrors. Poison and 
sorcery continually haunt bis imagination, and 
whenever he perceives a distant cloud that fore- 
tels a tempest, he binds round his temples a 
crown of laurel, m the supposition that ' it will 
pi:otect him from the lightning, taking a poetical 
allusioa in the. literal sense. Perpetually in 
dread of imaginary beings, and placing little 
confidence in a superior Power, he is pe:rhaps the 
most wretqhed inhabitant of his empire; and the 
splendour and virtues of his family are the tor- 
ment of his life. The dignity of his mother 
and the honours conferred on her by the senate ; 
the youth and distinctions of even his own son 
Drusus; but, above all, the far superior and he- 
roic qualities of Germanicus, incessantly torture 
him with, envy, distrust, and aj^prehension. Se- 
janus alone* approaches him with ease and fami- 

* Tacitus, Book 4, 



266 



/ 



! liarity, though probably ther^ is between them 
neither affection nor confidence. Tiberias fears 
death; and his minister recommends continual 
precautions against open or secret attempts, al« 
ways on the watch to discover or invent them. 
As praefect of the praetorian cohorts, he affects 
to maintain the ancient discipline and severity 
of manners, by forming a regular camp, where 
they are to. be united in a body, instead of being' 
dispersed, as at present, throughout Rome. 
Under pretence of removing them from the 
dissipation and allurements of the city, he seems 
to have conceived the design of converting 
them into a standing army for the support of 
the emperor, or more probably for his own 
ambitious views: he is the enemy of all the 
Cssarian family, and has the art of sowing 
dissension among them : to sum up all, he is 
a bold, skilful, and willing agent of despot*- 
ism. 

The court is divided into parties : female 
jealousies foment the discord, and the most tri- 
fling circumstances produce implacable enmities.* 
German icus and Drusus, alone unshaken in their 
friendship, beyond the reach of calumny and 
insinuation, afford the most shining example of 
union and concord. The irreproachable con^ 



I'i-, 



267 

I 

^uct of Agrippina^ her numerous and blooming 
ofispring, and her immediate descent from Au- 
^ustus^ give her many advantages in the eyes of 
the Roman people over Livia, who has in her fa- 
vour the influence of Sejanus and his party. This 
is particularly disgusting to Drusus: he often 
though in vain, exhorts her to break off all inter- 
course with them, while domestic happiness 
flies far from his mansion : he deserves a better 
fate, for the youthful irregularities of his conduct 
are greatly to be attributed to the dissension and 
disquietude he experiences at home. 

N6thing can be more repugnant to my dispo- 
sition than to be a witness of these scenes ; my 
attachment to Germanicus, and regard for your 
friend, must influence me to interest myself in 
all that relates to them ; but petty strife, ground- 
less animosity, or slanderous suggestion, are so 
odious to my nature, that I would seek the woods 
and caverns of Germany to avoid them. Happy 
are the hours in which I singly enjoy the con- 
verse of the two brothers; but when can we 
thus share the society of princes'? How rarely 
are they free from idle importunity or designing 
intrusion ! 

Fatigued in the day with hearing the intrigues 
and cabals of our rulers, I strayed towards even- 



fiC8 

ing to the grotto of Egeria^ the rural appearance 
of which, and the murmuring fountain, remind- 
ed me how simple ai^d innocent an artifice^ if 
artifice can ever he hlameless, was sufficient to 
govern our first fathers. I visited the temple of 
the Muses, and that structure which does so 
much honour to the principles of the great con- 
queror of Sjrracusa, the united temples of honour 
and virtue, hy the situation of which Marcellus 
wished to imprint so usefiil a lesson on the minds 
of his countrymen. I continued my walk to the 
Appian Way, and leaving the superh Mauso- 
leums of the Metelli and Servilii, at length seated 
myself near that of the Scipios."^ I here feU into 
a train of reflections, which ended in my repin- 
ing that I was not horn in the age of these great 
men, who were the conquerors of monarchs, and. 
the equals of their fellow citizens. My amhition 
and my patriotism kindled at the thought; I re- 
peated to myself some of the animated lines of 
the poet Ennius, whose zeal for the glory of his 
country and attachment to her godlike defen- 



♦ Tomb of the Scipios, discovered in 1780, with tiie 
pedestals for the statnes as described by livy, Cicero, 
&e. The urns and inscriptioiis are at the Vatican Ha- 
scum* 



S69 

ders, havfi been rewarded by a statue placed 
between those of Africanus and his brother. 
But while I contemplated their images^ I re* 
collected that the conqueror of Carthage was 
driven to Linternum by the malice of a party, 
and was so sensible of the ingratitude of his 
country, that he would not permit his bones to 
be deposited in the tomb of his ancestors ; that 
the second Africanus, lieir to the virtues and 
renown of the former, fell a victim to the 
treachery of his nearest connexions, and to the 
dissensions of the repubUc. I started from 
the enthusiastic dream, resigned myself to 
the present system of affairs, and passed the 
evening amidst a throng of senators, men of 
letters, veteran officers, and young patricians ; 
many of whom, from real attachment, and more 
from interest, frec^uent the houses of Germani- 
cus and Drusus. 

. Among the rest I met Velleius Paterculus,* 
and was at first highly delighted with his con-^ 
versation : the knowledge he has acquired, both 
as a scholar and a traveUer, renders his society 
particularly interesting. He intends to write a 
history of Rome, from the foundation of the city 

* See his history still extant 



270 

to the present times, and has certainly the ad-'' 
vantage of great experience in miHtary afFairsy 
dnd a singular command of language. Nothing 
can be more elegant than his manner of express- 
ing himself, and I have always heard that Ti- 
berius considered him as one of the best officers 
in his army : he seemed desirous of cultivating 
my acquaintance, from a motive of learning 
many particulars of the unfortunate expedition 
of Varus, which there are so few survivors to 
relate. I was willing to communicate all the 
intelligence I could give, till I heard him in the 
course of conversation, make a comparison 
between the friendship of ^ Scipio for Laelius, 
and the partiality of the emperor for Sejanus : 
this comparison disgusted me so muchj, that 
from that moment I resolved to avoid giving him 
any information concerning the affairs of Ger- 
many. The man who can descend to such gross 
adulation, will undoubtedly prove a false and 
partial historian; but he shall never say that 
materials have been supplied by me for a work, 
which is 'intended to mislead posterity. It is 
wonderful that with so excellent an understand- 
ing, he can relinquish, for the hopes of a cour- 
tier, the independent spirit of a soldier and mail 
of letters. 



«7J 



LETTER XLIX. 

XTAPPILY, Septimius, the day of the triumph is 
fixed for the seventh* before the calends of June. 
I shall then soon be at liberty to pursue my inten- 
tions of making diligent search for the retreat of 
Valerius. After having in vain sought for my 
uncle through Greece, the information you have 
received from the master of an lUyrian vessel, af- 
fords me some satisfaction, as it amounts to a 
proof that he is still alive. If the Illyrian saw and 
hailed the vessel, on which Valerius was embarked 
at no great distance froin the harbour of Messina^ 
it seems credible that he has chosen some part of 
Sicily for an asylum ; but surely it is extraordi- 
nary that a man of his rank and celebrity should 
be 80 long concealed. I have in some degree 
been unjust in my suspicions of the emperor and 
his favourite : I want the cool and moderate im- 
partiality of temper, which so much distinguishes 

• TwentyHsixth of May. 



27fi 

Germanicus and yourself; my reason is too often 
subservient to my passions; and when I am per- 
suaded of the justice of a cause, or the propriety 
of a sentiment, my heated imagination knows not 
where to stop in their defence. 

I have made this morning a most interesting 
visit with Germanicus. The day* being annually 
set apart for the joint celebration of the Parthian'* 
concessions, and the punishment of Caesar's mur- 
derers. Tiberius is obliged to perform the usual 
sacrifices in the temple of Mars the Avenger, and 
even to make his public appearance in the circus. 
Every individual of the Julian Family is engaged 
in these devotions except our general, who not 
having entered the city, is at liberty to consult 
his own inclinations in the manner of spending 
the day. He is much better pleased to have in- 
creased the public joy and thanksgivings, by his 
victories, than to shine in the Forum of Augustus, 
and to contemplate the pompous series of ances- 
tors to whom he 'has added new lustre. He pro- 
posed my accompanying him to the country house 
of Livy.f " This excellent historian/' said he; 
" merits all my respect; I never 'see him Without 

* Ovid de Fast. Book 5. 

t Livy died the following yeary as did the poet Ovid. 



^1S 

being impressed with the same veneration which 
I feel, when I pass through the triumphal* areh 
raised near the Capenan gate, to the memory of 
my father : he has related his actions : may hi» 
works he still more durable than the marble, that 
hears the honoured name of Drusus !" 

We found Livy in a small apartment, the 
windows of which overlook his garden on the 
borders of the Tiber, and he was seated in the 
vestibule of his villa: six niches contained as many 
busts, representing Camillus, Fabius Maximus, 
Paulus Emilius, Marcellus, Scipio Africanus^ 
and Titus duiiitius Flaminius. He received 
Germanicus with ease, simplicity, and affection : 
" You have been long employed in my service,'* 
exclaimed. he, " my beloved Caesar! you seem re- 
solved that my age shall not want occupation, but 
r fear I shall not have time to record yOur victo- 
ries; had you done less I might have hoped to 
add your conquests to those of your father." 
- " If my actions/* answered Germanicus, " ap- 
*' pear worthy of your attention, you must attri- 
bute to yourself great part of their merit. Could 



* Arch of Drasus, still to be seen at Porto San Se- 
bastiano. 

Vol. I. T 



214 

I read your works^ and not desire to imitate the 
deeds which you have immortahzed ? By cele- 
brating the worth of our fathers, you impede an 
arduous task on their sons/' 
• He introduced me to the sage, and became 
the partial historian of the period which I had 
spent in his camp.^ I found Livy already . in- 
formed of every thing that had happened to me ^ 
he rose and went into his library, whence he re- 
turned with a small volume, ^^ This,'^ said he, 
shewing it to Caesar, " contains notes which I 
have made on the present times; at the head of 
each page is the name of some illustrious family, 
whose ancestors have distinguished themselves in 
the service of their country ; below I have writ- 
ten the names, qualities, and actions of such of 
their living descendents that support or add to 
the honour of their race. Where I am obliged 
to leave blank pages, I consider that family as 
extinct for the present generation. Behold un- 
der the title of the Claudii how much I have 
been writing! see here the Quintii: ^hat you 
have related to me of Marcus is already inserted; 
but it is unnecessary,'' continued he, closing the 
volume, " to shew this book to you and to your 
friend ; I could wish that they, whose ancestors 
names are the only ornament of the page> were 



275 

to cast their eyes on the void spac^^ siirely they 
would be roused from their apathy and endea- 
vour to fill it." 

" Quintius Flaminius is one of my favourite 
heroes, as you may observe by my choice of his 
likeness to a^dorn my vestibule; he contributed 
equally to inspire a love and fear of the Roman 
name; he excelled the Greeks in wit and ele* 
gance almost as much as he was superior to them 
in valour, and this part of his character deserves 
to be remarked: If every great and good man 
was amiable, the cause of virtue would gain 
universal support, and vice would be left without 
an excuse. Beneficent Divinities are always 
painted beautiful." 

I took the liberty of enquiring why he had not 
graced his portico with the bust of Julius Csesar> 
and he instantly replied, ** Because* I could not 
in the opposite nich place that of Pompey the 
great, though I hope in my history I have done 
justice to them both* Had Caesar fallen in the bat- 
tle of Pharsaliai not only I, but the whole world 
would have considered his imageas too valuable to 
be confounded with any other ; and, even now, 1 

* Augiistiu used to call livy sportively the Pompeian 
Tacitus; &c« 



«76 

should assign it the first place, if his descendentir 
were not masters of Rome/' 

Germanicus embraced the historian on hearing 
these words: "My venerable friend!" exclaim- 
ed he with transport, " your sincerity digpiifies 
the praise you have bestowed on my father in 
your works, and on me in your presence." 

Livy enquired of Caesar whether there were 
any hopes that Ovid would be recalled from ba- 
nishment. . 

" I commiserate his fate," answered Germanic 
cus; " and Suillius * has lately shewn me a most 
affecting epistle, which his unfortunate father-in- 
law, addressed to him from Pontus, with the 
view of engaging me to serve him ; but I dare 
not solicit his return. Tiberius will hardly grant 
a favour of this nature, which was constantly re- 
fused me by Augustus. I am ignorant of the 
real cause of his exile ; it is scarcely to be ima- 
ginedi however just the sentence against immoral 
writers, that it would be pronounced on him. 
alone, while many others, equally guilty, re- 
main unpunished. Yet, midoubtedly, the great- 
er an author's talents, the more strictly should 
his works be examined. The young and inexpe- 

f, 

* Ovid's epistles from Pontus, Book 4* 



277 

Tienced are misled by the charms of lan^age, 
when the same principles, conveyed in rude and 
unpohshed terms, would strike them with a pro« 
per disgust ; but whether the exile of Ovid has 
put a stop to the evils attributed to his writings, I 
kave you to determine. As a votary of the Muses, 
■ I lament that poets are so seldom excellent mo- 
ralists ; their praises of virtue have too much the 
w of flattery, and their satires against vice are 
either so didactic as to fatigue, or so malignant 
■as to offend. You alone, who shew us the faith- 
ful picture of the advantages that spring from 
no\Ae actions, and of the mischief arising from 
crimes, can truly instruct the present and fu- 
ture generation by the example of the past. 

" You. will, notwithstanding, own," replied 
the historian, " that many excellent precepts of 
moral philosophy are conveyed to us by the 
sportive gaiety of Horace, and that his ode* on 
the victories of your father is superior to all the 
volumes I have written. 

" This ode,** said Germanicus, '' is my pride 
and my delight; but did not you, and other 
historians, attest the truths it contains, posterity 
tnight admire the harmony of its numbers, and 

^ Horace, Ode 4, Book 4. 



278 

the loftiness of its expressions, but would, after 
once reading, cast it aside with the innumerable 
adulatory compositions that begin to disgrace 
our language, and will for ever dishonour litera- 
ture while poets and patrons exist " 

The hours passed swiftly in the company of 
Liyy, and I regretted that we were obliged to 
leave him. We returned by the fields of Quin- 
tius Cincinnatus. * which will probably long pre- 
serve his venerated name. Modest frugality is a 
virtue, which, at all times, receives the appro- 
bation of the good, and excites no envy among ' 
the vain and ambitious: the indigent man of 
merit, when he sits^ down to his homely meal, 
reflects that a dictator once lived as poorly as 
himself, while his opulent neighbour, whose ta- 
ble is covered with profusion and splendor, will 
sooner praise the temperate sobriety of Cincin- 
natus than the magnificent banquets of Alexan- 
dria. Germanicus, who seeks as much as pos- 
sible to divest himself of . all exterior grandeur, 
never omits an opportunity of celebrating the 
simple manners of the ancient Romans. I could 
not forbear remarking to him on this occasion 
how much Augustus merited commendation ; 

* Piati de Qqinti, still ea^led so. 



279 

» 

ostentations magnificence was certainly in his 
power, and the example of the times authorised 
it even to excess ; yet nothing could be more 
simple, or more moderate than his way of living. 
It is still a problem with me, which deserves 
most praise, the man who makes a voluntary 
sacrifice of luxurious delicacy, or he who has 
magnanimity enough not to envy those who are 
in possession of enjoyments which he cannot pro- 
cure. Satiety may influence the first, and ne- 
cessity the second, but assuredly the example of 
a prince, who despises pomp and effeminacy, is 
of real and extensive advantage to his country. 
These reflections hj\ye reminded me of an 

I 

«vent* which has lately been the principal topic 
of conversation. A few days since, the rich 
Apicius looked over his accounts, and finding 
that the expenses of his table had consumed so 
much of his fortune as to leave him only 250,000 
sesterces, he poisoned himself in the fear of 
being reserved to die of want ! I am grieved to 
think that his treatise on prolonging the plea- 
sures of a repast, and the ridicAilous singularity 
of his death, will preserve his name, while that 
of many a brave soldier, who falls nobly in the 

* Dion CassiiiS; &c« 



defence of his country, is consigned to oblivion. 
You will perhaps reply, that Apicius can only 
be remembered to be despised; but what pu- 
nishment is the contempt of posterity to a wretch 
who never had a regard for fame? I am likewise 
afraid that many who smile at the manner of hift 
death, regret the loss of his table, and would 
sooner follow his example than, like Curius Den- 
tatus, refuse foreign gold, and boil vegetables oa 
their fire. 



281 



LETTER L* 

You will not blame me, Septimius, if I have 
been so very unphilosophical as to be wonder- 
fully elated with our triumph. I own that we 
should rather seek to merit 'rewards, than obtain 
them. I confess that glory is transitory, and the 
praises of the multitude often bestowed on the 
undeserving. The Grecian sages have so long 
written maxims of this nature, that their coun- 
trymen have progressively become the slaves of 
nations who have philosophised less, and fought 
better. You who read and compare the senti- 
ments of every sect, who are not contented with 
a vain theory, but practise whatever is most laud- 
able and most virtuous in the lessons of different 
schools, you, my dear Septimius, are not insen- 
sible to the charms of fame. Accept my thanks 
for the wish you formed of being a spectator of 
our entrance into Rome. Yesterday Germani- 

* A description of this triumph is to be found in Strabo, 
and Tacitus, Book 2. 



282 



cus CsBsar triumphed over the Cheruscans^ Cat- 
tians, Angrivarians, and all the nations who in- 
habit between the Rhine and Albis. The spoils^ 
captives^ and images of the mountains, rivers, 
and battles, appeared in long procession before 
his car ; but what chiefly attracted the eyes of 
the Romans, Were the eagles recovered from the 
enemy. The acclamations of applause were so 
frequent; and so violent, the name of your 
friend was repeated with transport by so many 
thousands of his fellow citizens, that I experi- 
enced a heartful satisfaction, a tenderness, a 
thankfulness towards my country, which is far 
beyond expression, and which, believe me, was 
not tinctured with vanity or self-conceit. My 
joy was too pure to admit of such unworthy 
companions: the civic crown, and other mili- 
tary rewards, with which I was distinguished, 
engaged the attention of the people ; and it gave 
me pleasure to hear them remark that there was 
scarce an officer or soldier amongst us who had 
not received some publick testimony of his va- 
lour. Our leader, who is deservedly the idol of 
Rome, appeared with every advantage ; the sin- 
gular beauty of his person, the radiant benefi- 
cence of his countenance, the well-merited lau- 
rel that adorned his brows, and the five graceful 



285 

children who shared his triumphal car> filled 
every spectator with lovfe and admiration. The 
young promised to themselves^ and to their 
country, future blessings from his virtues ; but, 
as I have been since informed, many of the aged 
conteimplated with a sigh this interesting triumph, 
and, recalling to mind the early fate of his uncle 
Marcellus, and his father Drusus, remarked, with 
ill-omened sensibility, how transitory and fatal 
had always been the destiny of darlings of the 
Bmnan people. 

We saw <m our way the triumphal arch which 
has been erected in memorial of the recovery of 
the en signs lost with Varus : it is placed near the 
temple of Saiturn, and at a small distance from the 
house of Cornelius Dolabella. Here the acclama- 
tions redoubled, and the thronging populace could 
with difficulty be restrained by the lictors : the 
crowd was so numerous, that neither mine, nor 
the horses of my companions could proceed ; the 
quantity of garlands, and profusion of flowers of 
every sort that were thrown on me, increased 
the confusion, and the procession was obliged to 
stop for several minutes. This happened im- 
mediately under the terrace where Aurelia and 
a considerable number of ladies were assembled 
to view the triumph. Dolabella, who rode near 
me, raised his eyes to salute Livia and the other 



. £84 

guests of Aurelia ; I naturally followed bis ex" 
ample, and for the first time sinc6 my return 
beheld her, whose image had never been absent' 
from my heart. Her disorder was so visible, 
that after a general and respectful salute, I look* 
ed down and entered into conversation with Sul- 
pitius, who rode on the other side of me, but 
scarcely knew what luttered. My mind was whol- 
ly engrossed by the terrace, and had not the lictors 
fortunately made way at that instant for our pas- 
sage, I should inevitably have broken the resolu- 
tion I had farmed not to look up a second time. 
Dolabella was silent during the rest of our 
march. 

When we arrived at the capitol, I felt the 
most awful emotions : the majesty of the temple, 
the sublimity of the address with which our an^ 
cient rites ordained that we should return thanks 
to the immortal Ruler of the universe ; the lofty 
strains that resounded through the domes ; the 
simple and unfeigned devotion of numberless 
united warriors, who are equally strangers to 
sceptic vanity, and superstitious terrors; the 
idea of adding new trophies to the sanctuary of 
Roman sovereignty; everything contributes to 
excite sensations -of the most august and pleasing 
nature. Though we had begun our march as 



285 

early as possible, the sun was set before we quit- 
ted the temple, but its golden reflection still 
crladdened the horizon and enlivened, the inte-^ 
resting scene. What a variety of distinguished 
objects! The Roman Forum, the seat of elo- 
quence and freedom! the Palatine, the birth 
place of our empire ! and the loifly Alban moun- 
tain rising majestically to close the prospect ! 
Surely, my friend, no view* can be compared 
with this. 

You will hear from every quarter of the sump- 
tuous banquet, and of the donation to the popu- 
lace made by Tiberius in the name of Germani- 
cus; but I must not omit informing you, that 
amongst the demonstrations of esteem with 
which the people overwhelmed me, they placed 
a crown of laurel on the statuef of Titus Flami- 
nius, which stands opposite to tb^ Circus Maxi- 
inus. 

In the evening I supped with the emperor* 
Germanicus introduced me to ' him with the 
warmest encomiums, and Tiberius expressed his 

* • 

* The views from the windows of Prince Rezzomco> 
Senator of Rome, who lives in the capitol, are still 
the most beautiful imaginable. 

t See Plutarch's life of Titus Flamioiiv. 



28d _ 

Approbation of my conduct ; telling me he re*' 
g^etted that my uncle had not been a spectator of 
our triumph. '' Though I have sometimes ta- 
ken* the liberty as a senator/' said he, " of 
differing from the opinion of Titus Valerius, 
I esteem his virtues and zeal for the public cause. 
I am astonished * he should have deserted the 
senate, where his advice was of weight, and 
where men of bis character must always be rare i 
have you any knowledge of the place of his 
retreat?" 

I answered, I was entirely ignorant of it, 
adding, that whatever might be the cause of my 
uncle's departure, I was convinced it had neither 
proceeded frpm neglect of his duty, nor want 
of attachment to the republic and its rulers. 

All who are accustomed to the planners of 
Tiberius declare that he behaved with more than 
usual affability on the present occasion; he 
caressed Germanicus, and talked much with him 
on the Syrian affairs. He spoke with attention 
to Silius and Csecina, who were graced with tri- 
umphal ornaments, and treated me with distin- I i 
guished regard : but still there is a haughty 
reserve in his appearance, a studied and myste- 



* See the life of Tiberius. 



f 



4 

f 

i 






287 

rious arrangement in his discourse, that damp 
cheerfulness, and repel confidence. I have heard 
that Augustus, when engaged in any conversation 
of pecuUar hilarity, would hreak off abruptly 
at the entrance of Tiberius. If such was the 
efiect of his disposition on the man to whom 
he was every way subservient, it is not surprising 
that he should cast a gloom over those who are 
subject to his power. On me it had no other 
effect than to give me that uneasy sensation, 
which I always feel when in. company with those 
who seem to think before they speak, lest they 
should betray their true sentiments. 



^s 



LETTER LI. 

J. O-DAY the CaBsarian family, the legates, 
Sulpitius, Dolabella^ and myselfj were invited to 
a magnificeni .banquet, given by Drusus to his 
brother. Aurelia,- and two or three other friend» 
of Livia, were of the party. The imperial gar- 
dens were illuminated, the palatine hill resound- 
ed with festivity, but its influence was not diffusa 
ed through the palace. Tiberius appeared for 
a moment, spoke some time apart with Germa- 
nicus, and then retired : Augusta* stayed longer, 
but all was constraint and 'coldness between her 
and Agrippina : Livia directed her conversation 
to Sejanus, who came, uninvited, with the em- 
peror ; Drusus cast a look of disdain on the 
favourite, and took no farther notice of his pre- 
sence ; Sulpitius, a stranger to most of the com- 
pany, was embarrassed; CaBcina, whose frank 
and honest disposition scorns adulation, and de- 

* Angusta Livia, widow of Augustas, adopted by his 
will into the Julian family. 



289 

tests ceremoniovis reserve, was impatient for 
the moment of departure. Silius is soliciting 
an employment^ in which he suspects Dolabella 
to be his competitor; and^ supposing him pro- 
tected by Drusus^ every mark of favour' bestowed 
on him made the legate evidently uneasy^ while 
Dolabella kept his eyes anxiously fixed on Au- 
relia. The graceful and respectable mother of 
Germanicus^ conscious of the artifices of Tibe- 
rius, scarce dared to give way to the felicity 
with which the triumph of her son would other- 
wise have inspired her. She was anxious for his 
future welfare, and in vain desired to promote 
' harmony and peace in the family ; while, on the 
other hand, she seemed affected to behold the 
total insensibility of her second son, Claudius, 
whose intellectual dulness makes him an object 
ridicule or neglect. He,* unconscious of the 
scenes that were passing around him, fell tran- 
quilly asleep before the repast was ended, and 
Caecina remarked to me, that were he to envy 
any petson in the company it would be Claudius. 
** Nay, probably," added he, " you behold in 
him your future master. Germ aniens has too 
many virtues, and Drusus too high a spirit ; that 

* See the life of Claudiuf . 
Vot. 1. u 



i jronng man cannot excite fear or enry.; he wiB 
1 be overlooked^ and may reap the advantage 
of their talents and his own imbecility. 

From the picture I have set before your eyes^ 
my dear Septimius> you wiH conclude that I was 
not greatly entertained : but you are to remem«>. 
ber that Aurelia was present: she 'was dressed 
with splendid elegance, and, at my entrance^ 
I thought she looked inexpressibly beautiful ; but 
the more I considered her person, the more 
I was convinced that she has lost in native graces, 
what she has gained in artificial charms. Her 
complexion, which you know is naturaSy a dear 
brown, has acquired a daziding fairness ; her ra- 
diant eyes, though still they are almost irresisti- 
ble, roll in studied languor, or sparkle with pre- 
meditated vitacity ; her graceful and easy form 
is seen alternately in different attitudes, all which 
are elegant, but seem to be directed by some 
Grecian sculptor, llie beauty of her hand^ 
overcharged with jewels, is perpetually displayed ; 
and her voice^ which nature had rendered suffi- 
ciently melodious, and whose soil accents stiH 
vibrated on my heart, is now skillfully adapted to 
musical periods, and to expressions as much stu- 
died as her manners. 
She talked on various subjects with knowledge 



201 

ftnd precision^ gave her judgment on several new. 
literary performances with liveliness and accura- 
Qj, and related two or three anecdotes with the 
taleiits of a Roscius. Her conversation was ma- 
nifestly directed to me, though I had not yet ad- 
dressed a word to her. I waited in vain for 
Dolabeila to introduce me ; at length she enquir* 
ed when I had heard from Septimius^ aixd made 
what might be stiled an oration in your praise, 
and that of friendship in general. Soon, ailerj:^ 
Dnisus having proposed a walk in the gardens, 
the company separated intp difiek^nt parties, and 
I found myself between her and Li via, till we 
were joined by Sejanus, which left me entirely 
to Aurelia. She remained a few moments with^* 
out speaking ; her bosom heaved with a gentle 
sigh: I was silent. '^ Mar.cus !'' said she— and 
then hesitated for an instant — *' how generous 
are you not to upbraid me ! you were yesterday 
a witness of my confusion ; however undeserving, 
let me sue for your friendship, and believe that 
amidst the numbers who celebrated your fame, 
and admired your actions, none felt them more 
sincerely than Aurelia. You cannot refuse some 
regard to the wife of a man whose life you have 
so heroically saved." 

*' Aurelia !" answered I, " there is nagenero- 

u2 



2i5l2 

sify in my forbearing to upbraid yon for having' 
supposed that vows were annulled by death j 
since you may plead in your favour the laws of 
Rome, and the custom of the world. With 
respect to the actions in which I have been so 
fortunate as to be a sharer, the crowns and 
collars, with which they have adorned me, are 
no part of myself; you may remember that 
before I obtained them, I had the same princi- 
ples, the same sentiments which led me to deserve 
them. When I saved the life of Cornelius Dola- 
bella, I merely did my duty in preserving a 
brave citizen to the republic. I dare not accept 
the offer of your friendship r you have too many 
charms, and I have too much sensibility : I fear 
you would soon lose your opinion of my he- 
roism: suffer me, therefore, only to retain your 
esteem, and he assured of my inviolable respect.^ 

Aurelia burst into tears — 

This was a trying moment for your friend; 
I hope she did not perceive my sCgitation. '' You 
have,^^ continued she, in a faltering accient, " a 
small portrait of mine, which the indulgence of 
friendship might have kept, but which the cold- 
ness of esteem will relinquish with indifference. 
May I request you will restore it to me at any 
hour to-morrow you shall please to appoint? 



Q93 

Ishall be alone at the villa of At ilia, where I mean 
to pass a few days ; the' dissipation and importu- 
nate society, to which I am here hourly con- 
demned, fatigue and torment me. I feel that 
solitude is necessary for my health and spi- 
rits/^ ; - 

Indeed^ Septimius, this was too much : I am 
ignorant what would have -been my reply, if, 
happily, Dolabella, who had long been in con- 
versation with Germanicus, had not met us at 
that instant ; his presence at first displeased me, 
but I jsoon recollected myself, and embraced the 
opportunity of gaining a complete victory. 

" Dolabella !" said I, " it is with pain I ob- 
serve that Aurelia is uneasy to see her portrait 
remain in my possession : her delicacy merits 
praise ; but when you remind her of the reason 
why I cannot return it ; when she hears from 
you my proniise that it should never be profaned 
by human eye ; when I assure you both I have 
taken care that at my death if shall be restored, • 
let me flatter myself that she will think no more 
on a subject, which must not disturb the tran- 
quillity of her mind." 

Dolabella recovered his usual serenity ; Aurelia 
had no longer a look of humiliation, and Drusus 
now called us to listen to a concert of excellent 
music, which concluded the evening. 



«94 

I could not sleep, my friend, before I related 
to you these events. This encounter was far 
more perilous than the battle of Idistavisus, or 
the recovery of the eagles ; nevertheless I will not 
boast of my heroism. Had I found Aurelia with 
the same candour and simplicity which she pes'- 
sessed when I left her, I should never have 
obtained this triumph over myself: but would she 
then have been united to another? 

In a few days we are to make the usual sacri- 
fice, with our general, "on the Alban hill; after 
which I shall immediately set out for Campania. 
Farewell, Septimius! 



£95 



LETTER LIT. 

It is with infinite satisfaetion, my friend, I re- 
visit the monuments o^ Roman greatness, and 
every object that recalls to my mind the pleasures 
of my infancy. I began this morning by enter- 
ing the Pantheon,''^ the simple and majestic 
structure of which ever excites my admiration* 
and here I contemplated with respect the statues 
of Augustus, and his public-spirited friend.f I 
know that many of our philosophers are disgusted 
with the destination of this edifice ; the variety of 
Divinities appears to them impious and absurd, 
but I wish still to see them in the light in .which 
they were originally intended. Our fathers dein 
filed the virtues and attributes of the Supreme 
Being ; every rational man knows they have no 

* The celebrated temple now admired under the name 
•f the Rotonda, or St. Mary of the Martyrs, 
t Mareus Agrippii| who adorned Rome with mway eon* 
iderable edifices. 



296 

other meanings and it is dangerous to disturb the 
belief of the multitude. In t^is state of mind I 
proceeded to the temple of Minerva,* and long 
fixed my eyes on the statue of the goddess : there 
is a sober majesty, an unafiPected delicacy, a 
calm serenity in her aspect, that imprint forcibly 
on the mind a reverence for the empire of wis- 
dom. I could not help reflecting how far I was 
remote from this sublime tranquillity, how often 
wild hopes, vain desires, and contending passions 
had obscured my understanding, and planted 
daggers in my heart! I considered how much 
more I might have been the victim of my inipetu- 
ous temper, and warm imagination, had not ad- 
versity instructed, and removed me from the dan- 
gerous field of action, where every passion has 
its center, and every error its incitement. As I 
was blessing the so long lamented time of my cap- 
tivity, my meditations were interrupted by the 
entrance of several children, whom the parents, 
or preceptors, on their way to school, conducted 
to kiss the hand of Minerva, previous to the be- 
ginning of their daily studies. The observance 
of this simple and ancient custom, inspired me 

* Santa Maria in Minerva, the church belonging to the 
Dominicans. The statue is said to be the same which is 
MOW seen at the Palace Giustiniani. 



S97 

with greater reverence than I have ever felt in 
being presient at the pompous lectures of sages 
and philosophers. I beheld in this the principal 
feature that distinguishes us from barbarians; 
and enumerated in my mind the various advan- 
tages arising from education. I was delighted to 
behold the different countehances of these infant 
votaries, but was particularly pleased with two 
boySj one of whom appeared to be about eight, 
and the other nine years of age, led by a woman 
whose charms seemed to be rather faded by mis- 
fortune than years. She looked pale and pensive, 
was dressed with neatness and simplicity, and at- 
tended by one aged female slave. The children 
were animated and beautiful; and, as soon as 
they had performed the ceremony of saluting the 
statue, their mother led them towards the door 
with the intention of departing. I could not re- 
fuse myself the pleasure of stopping and caressing 
them ; and while I was thus engaged, I heard 
the slave, who accompanied their mother, en- 
quire of my servants if my name was not Marcus 
Jlaminius, and whether I was not lately return- 
ed from Germany. I immediately looked round, 
and asked her the cause of such enquiry, 
when the mistress advanced, and making many 
excuses for what she called an undue liberty, con-f 



298 

jured me to tell her, nirfaether I could give any in- 
formation of the fate of her hushand Flavius 
Herennius, who had been a centurion in the army 
of Varus. 

'' I have long bid adieu to hope,'' continued 
she, ** but it would be some satisfaction to have 
certain knowledge in what manner my husband 
finished his existence; I am sure he fell doing 
his duty, and I endeavour to bring up his chil- 
dren by his example : but the last affecting cir- 
cumstance of his story is wanting to their in- 
struction." 

She could not proceed, and I found myself un- 
able to answer her. Flavius was a man of infi- 
nite merit, and had raisedhimself by his services 
to be first centurion in the nineteenth legion ; he 
was taken prisoner in defence <^ the eagle, and 
when /I crawled to the nearest altar, perceived 
in the wood of Teutoburgium his mangled body 
lie bleeding before it. Was this an intelligence 
to be given his widow? 

She observed my distress, which she attributed 
to the pain I might feel in being obliged to cpn- 
firm to her the death of her husband. I assured 
her that he had done his duty to the last, and 
that his remains, which had been left a monu- 
ment of his valour, were buried with those of hit 



fi99 

companions. I judged from her appearance 
that she did not enjoy the favours of fortune, but 
I have! since learned, that nothing can exceed 
her indigence, except her virtue and courage in 
supporting it : this part of her misfortunes I can 
easily I'elieve. The two sons of my brave fellow- 
soldier are become my care, and Philo has this 
afternoon with difficulty, persuaded the mother 
to accept of an inconsiderable assignment for the 
maintenance of a daughter, who is to remain 
with her. She fefiised all that was offered for 
herself; the pr<Bceptor of her children will ev^ry 
morning lead them to kiss the hand of the mo- 
ther, who has been to them a Minerva ; and I 
have discovered, for the first time since my re- 
turn to civilized life, that the gifts of Plutus are 
not unessential to happiness. After quitting the 
temple of Minerva, with my mind wholly en- 
grossed by the fate of Herennius, the r^nem- 
brance of Cariovaldas, and of the artless ho^i- 
tality with which I had been treated among the 
Cheruscans, at a time when their enmity s^ainst 
the Romans was at the highest, excited in me a 
desire of visiting our prisoners,* to see if, by any 
means, I might contribute to the alleviation of 

» 

* The prisons were in the Fonan* 



soo 

their sufferings. I found them well treated, and 
in general not impatient in their situation. I 
have before told you that the wishes of these peo- 
ple are few, and their sensibility not great ; they 
were pleased to hear me address them in the lan- 
guage of their country, and received, with un- 
usual . thankfulness, some wine and provisions 
which I ordered to be distributed among them. 
One man alone avoided speaking, and concealed 
his face with his hands, in a comer of the prison ; 
this raised my , curiosity, and excited my pity ; I 
approached him, and, to my great surprise, 
found "him to be Manfred. Distracted at seeing 
a chief confounded with the lower class of prison- 
ers, as I thought all of the higher order had. been 
removed to more commodious habitations, whence 
they would be transported to the municipal towns 
allotted for their residence, I enquired of him the 
cause, and assured him he should soon be more 
propcjrly disposed of ; but he replied, he had in- 
dustriously concealed his rank that his shame 
might be less visible. . *' I have been led in 
chains,** said he, " before your triumphant 
army, but the dignity, of a Cheruscan chief has 
not been insulted in my person.- I am your slave, 
and the rest is now indifferent to me ; you pomp- 
ously declare that you prefer death to dishonour. 



^ 



301 

yet coniplain that we are barbarians^ becaOse we 
?ave our captives from ignominy by sacrificing 
them to the Gods." 

" Manfred !^' answered I, " the vain and illi- 
beral custom of exposing men, who have fought 
for their countiy, to the eyes of a triumphant 
enemy, is indeed unworthy of the Romans, and I 
regret you have beea a melancholy example of 
this truth. Had I perceived the friend of Cario- 
valdas, a man to whom I have myself obligations, 
amongst' our prisoners, I should have interceded 
with the general for sparing you this mortifica'^ 
tion ; but believe me, the Romans often look with 
the same respect on the captive, as on the con- 
queror. They esteem the virtues of their enemies, 
and prefer the brave Cheruscans who adorned our 
triumph, to the numberless Asiatics who live in 
pomp and effeminacy in our capital. I hope a 
time may come, when your nation will be con- 
vinced of our sentiments, and rather seek our 
friendship, than court our chains. In the mean 
while I shall endeavour to obtain your liberty, 
and, if I succeed, all my request in recompence 
is, that you will, as far as lies in your power, pre- 
vent for the future the massacre of any captives 
who may fall into your hands. You have not 
impartially made the comparison between our 



302 

conduct and yours : Arminius insulted tbe Ro-^ 
man prisoners, and afterwards put them to death 
in the most cruel manner : we lead our conquered 
enemies in triumph: the love of fame, which is 
carried to enthusiasm in this country, demands u 
pompous appearance of victory ; and the soldiers, 
who have fought for obtaining it, choose that 
their fellow citizens should behold what oppo- 
nents they have withstood, and judge what diffi- 
culties they have encountered. For this momen- 
tary insult, which I confess is no mark of civiliza- 
tion, we make what amends we can by the gen- 
tlest and most liberal treatment; but an ignomi- 
nious death is past the power of repentance to 
compensate/' 

Manfred, who is /by no mealis deficient in 
good sense, seemed calmer from what I had said* 
Oh leaving him I immediately went to solicit 
Grermanicus in his -favour. A^ I crossed the 
Forum in my way to the palace, I recollected 
that I must pass before the mansion of Valerius; 
I wished, and yet I feared, to see it ; but while I 
endeavoured to calm my agitation, I found my- 
self almost insensibly at the gate : I entered and 
stopped^ in tbe hall to contemplate the many 

* It IS generally believed the house of the Poplicobi 



SOS 

heroes whose images are the pride of Romej and 
the envy of her^ most distinguished families* 
Few houses can indeed hoast of so glorious a suc- 
cession, not only of consuls, military tribunes, 
dictators, and censors, but of brave, just, and 
honourable men. 

Beginning with the blameless counsellor who 
contributed to form the Eomans send Sabines into 
one people, the great Poplicola, and the fortu- 
nate Corvinus, I viewed each of them with at- 
tention, and felt myself nearly as much affected 
as if I had seen them borne at the funeral of Va- 
lerius. When on the night of the triumph, I first 
entered my habitation at Rome, and reviewed the 
images of my forefathers, with the trophies of va- 
rious nations that had been brought to grace our 
parental walls, I thanked heaven that during my 
absence my conduct had not rendered me un- 
worthy of such society, and of such honours. 
I was now struck with pensive awe, a melancholy 
uncertainty preyed on my spirits : I raised my 
' eyes to the unanimated forms, as if to ask them 

was in the way from the Fonim to the Palatine. It was 
a proof of nobility amongst the Romans to have waxen 
busts of their ancestors -, they were placed in cases round 
the hall, and were carried at the funerals of the family. 
PolybiuS) Pliny, &c. 



304 

fot their revered descendant. I attributed his re- 
treat to the imitation of their virtues, and ima- 
gined they called on me to restore him to their 
household Divinities. Absorbed in these medita- 
tions, I almost accused myself of impiety for suf- 
fering any other care to intrude on my mind ; 
and had not the voice of gratitude and humanity 
admonished ine without delay to procure the li- 
berty of Manfred, I know not when could have 
torn myself from the objects that so deeply 
affected me. 

With the assistance of Germanicus I have ob- 
tained permission for the Cheruscan to return to 
his country by the first opportunity: in the 
mean time he is removed to my house, and ap- 
pears satisfied. , He can give no intelligence of 
Sigismar, but informs me that, when he per- 
ceived my escape, he sent a few of his bravest 
soldiers into the flaming wood, to search for me ; 
but that, intimidated by the conflagration, they 
soon returned, and could not, by threats or in- 
treaties, be induced to renew the attempt. 



V • 



305 



LETTER LIIL 

Jl his evening we are returned from our expe- 
dition to the Alban mountain ; the day was 
beautiful, and during our march we found th^ 
I'oad filled With spectators. As we passed 
through the art;h' of Drusus, our general alighted, 
and his followers imitated his example in paying 
this respect to the memory of his father; our 
trumpets sounded, and laurels were twined round 
tlie columns, intiermixed with garlands off flow- 
ers. 

What a variety of interesting objects is pre- 
sented to the view of the Koman, I who, after 
a long absence, retraces the road whi^h leads 
from the city to the primeval mountains, whence 
we derive our origin, and Rome its splendour! 
The field of battle* where the Horatii and Curi- 
atii fought as they imagined for the narrow limits 
of a few fields, but in reality for the empire of 

* lli^' pdate is still sheM about three miles from 
Rome: 

Vol. 1. X 



30& 

the worlds and fought with all the ardour and 
patriotism which so important an object might 
inspire : the Temple of Female Fortune,* erected 
by our ancestors to the honour of the mother or 
Coriolanus and her companionsy dn memorial of 
one of those few occasions in which women have 
interested themselves with success^ or propriety^ 
in public transactions : the spotf where the 
Appian way was stained with the blood of an un- 
T^orthy descendant of that illustrious family^ and 
which has left us a monument of the astonishing 
power of sophistry and eloquence in one of the 
most excellent pleadings of the prince of Roman 
oratory : the sepulchre J of the great and unfor- 
tunate Pompey, who, after having rendered him- 
self and his country illustrious by numerous and 
splendid conquests, fell a sacrifice to an immode- 
rate jealousy of power, to the designing adula- 
tion of his party/ to the false representations of 
bad citizens in general, and to the treachery of 
an infant tyrant. 
Such are the images that crowd on the imagi- 

* The niins still to be seen. 

t Bovillae. -There is an inn now there. 

t ■ , 

i Supposed to be a lofty ruin which stands in a field 
belong^g to Cardinal de Bemls, Bishop of Al]^apo. 



E" 
II 



307 

nation^ whilje the eye contemplates the country 
disputed step by step between our brave forefa- 
thers and their rival neighbours ! All seems con- 
secrated ground : the graces preside over every 
hill> sport in every grove> and bathe themselves 
in the. beauteous lake^* that lake Which many re- 
volving years have substituted for the tremen- 
ous crater formed by subterraneous explosions. 
The sulphureous stones, the rains of fire, which 
our good progenitors with religious awe, consi'- 
dered as prodigies, have now lost their superna- 
tural terrors, by the manifest remains of that 

ft 

element which first spreads desolation, and then 
fertility over these deUghtful regions. But the 
Alban mountain will ever be an ol]ject of respect 
and veneration ; we Cannot forget that it was here 
the first assembled states of Latium ratified Iheir 
union by the sacred ties of mutual hospitality ; 
and that here the rights of nations were first esta- 
blished on a solid basis. Here the grateful con* 
queror raises his eyes to heaven in thanks for 
himself, and for his country, that country which 
now swells his imagination with every beautiful 
and majestic idea; he sees her lofty towers, her 
well-defended bulwarks, and the many aqueducts 

* Lago di Qastello, seven miles in circumference. 



308 

which her public spirited citizens Jiave construct* 
ed to convey the strean^s of health within her 
walls ; he contemplates her cultivated and popur 
lous environs, her stately villas, her extensive 
colonies, and municipal, towns, which vie with 
cities in splendor and opulence ; her numerouA 
lakes and rivulets, and, above aD, the transpa- 
rent waters of Diana's mirror,^ overhung with 
consecrated woods, that shade the statesman and 
hero from the scorching heat of summer, while 
they gladden him with the primeval charms of 
nature and simplicity. He views the Tyrrhenian 
sea, and the more distant waves of the Adriatic, 
that facilitate communication, and transport the 
mind to those far remote regions, which patience 
and intrepidity have added to the Roman em- 
pire. 

From the Alban hill we seem at our feet to 
view the conquered world; and above, that 
universal aiid beneficent Providence, to whom 
we owe our existence, our virtues, and our fame ! 
Never was a nobler spot selected with circum- 
stances congenial to public adoration ! The form 
of the templet is circular, like that of the terra- 

* Specalom Dianae, now Lago di Nemi. \ 

t Temple of Japiter Latialn; a circalar wall is stiU 



309 

queous globe^ and the altar of Jupiter La^ialis* 
placed in the caitre of the edifice, which stands 
on the summit of the mountain^ and elevates the 
mind above t|;ie mists of fabulous superstition 
to the purest and sublimest worship. Here Ger^ 
manicus offered sacrifice according to the ancient 
rites, and we returned through *the winding 
road,^ shaded by oaks and laurels, which contri- 
' bute to dignify the scene. 

To-morrow, at dawn of day, I depart for 
Campania ; where, afler endeavouring to gain 
some in&i^mation at the Baian villa of Valerius, 
I shall embark for Sicily in search- of him. 

Tiberius,t who, at the last elections, named 
Germanicus with himself to the consulship for 
the ensuing year, has made a long and studied 
oration in the senate, stating the necessity of 
sending our general into Syria, to appease the 
troubles and dissensions,' of which himself was 

renudning, and the ruins of theakar are visible; ther^ 
is now a convent of Passionisti. 

* This triumphal road is in good preser^'ation, and 
it is still shaded by oaks and laurels ; on several of the 
large stones which compose it, are to be seen the letters 
V. N. supposed to imply Via Numinis. 

t Tacitus, Book ii. 



310 

originally the author^ from'his vindictiye treache- 
ry to the deceased Archelaus. He has declared, 
that neither his own declining age, nor the youth 
of Drusus, is eqyal to such an expedition, and 
therefore can alone select Germanicus ; the mo«- 
tives of which choice are but too apparent from 
his refusal of permitting him to be accompanied 
fay those whom he can trust. It is evident, that 
the emperor dreads his influence, and, by re- 
moving him from Rome and his friends, consults 
his own fears, rather than the advantage of his 
adoptive son. The departure of Germanicus 
cannot take place immediately, though Tiberius 
endeavours to hasten it. 




END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 



J. M'CREERY, Printer, 
BUck.Hone-<^art, Fleet^treet. 



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